


DSRT

by London_Halcyon



Category: RWBY
Genre: Anti-Faunus Racism (RWBY), Beacon Academy, Bullying, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up, Pre-Canon, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2020-02-09 14:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 34,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18640255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London_Halcyon/pseuds/London_Halcyon
Summary: A rebellious rich kid, a happy-go-lucky twin, a secretive nomad, and a clumsy tank all have their own reasons for joining Beacon Academy, but as they come to find out, they're going to get a lot more than they bargained for. And between increased Grimm activity, rising political tensions, and questionable teachers, they'll have their work cut out for them!Begins one year before the start of RWBY.





	1. No Such Thing As Coincidences

She was being followed. That she was absolutely sure of. At first Rosemary had thought that she was just being paranoid. She had only arrived in Vale a few days ago. Why would someone be interested in a girl like her? She was short and not overly attractive, and she hadn't blown anything up. Surely no one knew what she was. When the woman showed up for the third time, she thought she was just imagining things. There was no way it was the same woman. It was just a coincidence. Crazy librarian was probably just a common fashion trend. 

It wasn't until Rosemary was panting as she hopped from rooftop to rooftop, blood running through her fingers, that she remembered that there was rarely such a thing as coincidences.


	2. High Prices

She was hungry. Rosemary's stomach growled as she rummaged through her messenger bag, taking inventory. She gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to growl back at it. It wouldn't fix the problem: she was out of food. She had slept through breakfast, and now she had no food.

A cold breeze blew across the hotel rooftop, snapping the edges of her makeshift tent and making goosebumps rise on her bare arms. By the time Rosemary had made it to Vale, she had nearly run out of the food and money she had been given for the trip. What a slap to the face that had been—to think she had reached the end of her journey only to realize that not only was it far from over, but that she also had no clue where to go next. 

So she had made it her first priority to find food and shelter without the money to purchase either. Though she was against stealing, she was not above taking advantage of the system. Once she had found a good hotel, she snuck onto the roof and made a tent out of her blankets. Every morning, pretending to be one of the guests, she would slip into the lobby and grab some of the breakfast being served there, making sure to take enough away with her to last the rest of the day. Later, she would use the showers provided for the people that used the hotel gym and pool. They were locked of course, but the lock was on the fence outside that blocked the path to the showers, not the showers themselves. It was way too easy to get over, and she hadn't been caught. Yet. 

Though now getting caught was the least of her worries and, as she sorted through her bag, those worries continued to grow. She was out of food and was almost out of Dust for  _Ebur_  and  _Eben_. She could fight and hunt without Dust, but it was much more difficult. She counted her remaining Lien and then recounted. Her heart sank. She recounted a third time. Her heart sank further. She barely had enough money left for one meal. 

Her stomach growled again. One meal it was then. She'd figure something out after lunch. If it came down to it, then she'd steal if she had to, dishonorable as it was.

And then what? What was she even doing here?

With a sigh, Rosemary put most of her money in the pouch on her belt and left the rest in the bag to stay on the roof. Activating her Semblance, she glided down unseen into the alley below. After landing gracefully on the ground, she deactivated her Semblance once more and slipped out of the alleyway to...to crash right into a young woman on the sidewalk. 

It was like hitting a wall. The woman only moved one foot back to steady herself while Rosemary stumbled several steps backwards, nearly falling over. 

"Careful," the woman said calmly. 

Rosemary averted her gaze, catching no more than a glimpse of yellow, white, black, and purple. She mumbled an apology and hurried off down the sidewalk without looking back. Her heart pounded. The woman hadn't seen anything, had she? No, of course not. There was no way that was possible. 

It took some searching, but Rosemary finally found a diner with cheap prices. Just as she was about to enter, the back of her neck tingled. Startled, she glanced around to see the streets mostly deserted. A few people milled about, but none of them looked threatening. Was hunger just causing her mind to play tricks on her, or was her Aura really reacting to something?

Feeling unsettled, she pushed through the door to the diner, causing a bell to ring above her head. It was rundown, dirty, and nearly empty, but she couldn't afford anyplace better. The food smelled decent enough at least. 

A group of rough-looking young men eyed her appraisingly from a booth in the corner. She could feel them noting the strangely patterned armor on her torso, the sword on her hip, and the folded shield on her left arm. Pretending to be absorbed by the menu above the counter, she casually rested her left hand on  _Ebur's_  hilt. The men whispered quietly among themselves. 

"We don't serve your kind here," a gravelly voice growled. Rosemary's attention (as well as that of the young men's) was drawn to the man behind the counter. He was unshaven, heavy, and quite...sweaty. There were dark patches under his arms and across his large chest. And he was scowling. 

For a terrified heartbeat, Rosemary thought he was talking to her and was just beginning to wonder how he could know what "her kind" was, when another voice spoke. 

"And what law states that?" it said coolly. This voice came from a young woman standing not far from Rosemary. She had short, curly red hair, a narrow face...and fox ears. She was a Faunus. 

"No law," the manager sneered. "I run this restaurant, and I say we don't serve your kind here."

The Faunus looked indignant. "For what reason? We have the same rights as you. In fact, Humans are no different fr—" The last of her words ended in a squeak as the manager hefted a large gun onto the counter with a thunk. 

"I dare you to finish that sentence,  _mutt_ ," he growled. "I was planning on generously sending you away in one piece, but now I'm not so sure. Leave now before I make up my mind."

Rosemary flexed her right hand, but did not reach to draw her sword. Instead, she simply tightened her left's grip on  _Ebur_. 

Red-faced, the Faunus hurried out the door, her eyes burning holes in the ground. Rosemary kept her gaze on the manager as he put the gun back under the counter, anger roiling in her stomach. Despicable.

The manager glared at her. "What'cha looking at? Are you gonna order something or not?"

Rosemary quietly ordered a grilled ham and cheese sandwich to-go. Normally she boycotted places like these, but she didn't exactly have that option right now. 

As she was sitting down at a booth to wait for her food, the door dinged. She looked up to notice two things. First, the guys in the corner booth were gone. Second, a woman had entered the diner. It was the same woman Rosemary had run into. Rosemary quickly looked away, pretending not to have seen, but the woman paid her no notice and stayed focused on the menu. 

Curious, Rosemary subtly observed her. Usually she wasn't this nosy, but the woman was very out of place. She certainly didn't look like the kind of person that would come to a rundown diner such as this. She had a librarian-type look about her with her thin oval glasses and flawlessly neat outfit. She wore a white long-sleeved, pleated top with a wide keyhole neckline. Her lower body was covered by a black high-waisted pencil skirt and black-brown stockings. She was actually older than Rosemary had first thought, as her face suggested she was middle-aged. However, there was not a speck of gray in the light blond hair that was pinned neatly back into a bun or in the stylish curl that hung along the left side of her face. She wore some jewelry, including a pair of teal dangling earrings that matched the hanging pendant on her collar and were just a few shades darker than her bright green eyes. 

But that was where the librarian look stopped. Pinned to her shoulders was a cape with a black outside and a dark purple underside. The cut of the cape was stylized to end in flames and arrows, and there was a row of bronze diamond-shaped beads on the back that underlined the emblem of a bronze tiara. The woman also wore a pair of knee-high black boots with brown heels, and attached to the top of the right one was the collapsed form of a long, thin object—very likely a weapon.    

That wasn't the look of a librarian. That was the look of a Huntress. 

"Eule!" the manager's voice snapped Rosemary's attention back his direction. Reluctantly, she stood up and approached him to pay for her food, wanting so badly to show him just  _what_  he was serving. "That'll be seven Lien," he stated. 

Rosemary wasn't sure she'd heard him right. "Seven? The menu says four-fifty."

"There's been a price change," the manager said in a tone that suggested the price change had happened five seconds ago. He also tapped his fingers on the counter in a way that suggested what would happen if she argued. The message was clear: his diner, his rules. 

Swallowing back her unease, Rosemary pretended to count out her money, at the same time holding it in a way he couldn't see. Unable to make the amount she had magically increase, she handed him the money. Maybe he wouldn't notice. 

The manager frowned at her. "What game are ya playing, kid? This is five. I said seven. Can't you count?" Of course, the money-grubber noticed. 

"This is all I have," she replied calmly, trying to maintain both her dignity and her steady tone. 

He growled, "The price is seven."

Rosemary met his gaze. "The menu says four-fifty." The sandwich was sitting right there on the counter. If she had to, she'd take it and run. It wouldn't be stealing if she left the money. She could easily escape. That is, if she didn't get shot first. 

The manager slipped one hand under the counter. Rosemary tensed. 

Something slapped down on the counter, causing them both to jump. Someone next to Rosemary cleared her throat. It was the woman. "There's no need to fight over a sandwich, is there? It seems rather...silly," she said, sounding quite unamused. 

Rosemary blushed and lowered her gaze, feeling scolded. The manager looked like he wanted to protest, but closed his mouth when the woman removed her hand from the counter, revealing several Lien. He silently accepted the money and pushed Rosemary's sandwich towards her with a grumpy expression. Apparently satisfied, the woman pushed her glasses up her nose and turned away from the manager to give Rosemary an evaluating look. To say she had a stern face was an understatement. One glance from the woman could probably send a Beowolf running. Not to mention that she towered over both man and girl with—were those six-inch heels?

Rosemary took the sandwich and quietly thanked her, her cheeks still burning. 

The woman was silent for a few beats before she made a humming sound in her throat that could've been disapproval or acceptance. "Be careful," she warned, subtly jerking her chin as an indication to leave. 

Rosemary murmured her thanks once again and somehow managed to leave the diner at a walk. She didn't relax or stop looking back over her shoulder until she was several blocks away from that filthy building. All the while she kept wondering, if that woman truly was a Huntress, then what was she hunting?

* * * *  
  
After a bit of wandering around, she found a small park. She sat down on a bench and unwrapped her lunch. She took a bite of the greasy sandwich and forced herself to chew and swallow. No fight was worth this. Was this what she had come to? Fighting a bigoted restaurant manager for a terrible morsel of food? The irony of it almost made her laugh. Well, it probably didn't matter how she did her job. She could see her slogan now: Bringing you world peace, one restaurant at a time! She quickly took another bite of her food to keep from laughing aloud. Now wasn't the time to look crazy in public. 

Having finished her meager sandwich, she stood up and balled up the wrapper in her hands, preparing to throw it in a nearby trash can. Suddenly, she froze, the back of her neck tingling. She glanced around the crowded park filled with happy families. A flash of yellow and purple around a nearby tree caught her eye, but when she looked closely there was nothing there. Had she imagined it?

Once again feeling unsettled, she began to walk back towards the hotel.

* * * *

"No! Let me go!"

The terrified cry stopped Rosemary in her tracks. The sidewalk was practically deserted, and the dull gray buildings towered over her, both making her feel small and effectively limiting her sight. Where had it come from?

"Stop!"

An alley up ahead. She swiftly darted over to it and cautiously peered around the corner of the building. There stood the red-haired fox Faunus from before, and she wasn't alone. Surrounding her were the four men from the diner, all armed. One man, possibly the leader, had the girl pinned against the wall, a sword held to her throat. The other three stood by, two with rifles and one with another sword. 

Rosemary quickly activated her Semblance to avoid being seen. A brief evaluation of the scene sent her heart into her throat. This wasn't good. She had to go get help. There was no way she and the girl could handle four grown men on their own. They were outgunned and outnumbered. She didn't know what those weapons did or if they had dual functions. The narrow alleyway severely limited maneuverability, which would make it very difficult to use a long sword or crossbow, not to mention avoid getting shot. It would be so easy to get blocked in with no escape. 

"You're a little troublemaker, mutt," the leader snarled, shaking the girl. "You think you have rights? You have no rights, especially not the right to think you're as good as us. That you're as Human as us."

The girl whimpered, her ears flat against her head, "Please, stop."

The leader continued, "You're nothing more than an animal. We're here to make sure you never forget that." He used the hand not holding his sword to stroke her cheek with a wicked grin. "Oh, we're gonna have so much fun."

"Somebody help! Please!" the girl cried. 

Scratch getting help. There was no time. Rosemary flicked her left wrist, feeling  _Ebenos_  unfold into its full, round, gleaming black self. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the alley and deactivated her Semblance, killing her advantage of surprise. "Leave her alone!" she shouted. 

The men spun around, clearly startled, but only for a brief second. Suddenly, all weapons but the leader's were pointed at Rosemary. "What have we here?" the leader sneered. "A little Huntress?" When she didn't answer, he said, "No, I think we're gonna keep having fun with what we're doing. Unless you want to try and stop us?"

"I don't want to fight you," Rosemary said calmly. "We can all still walk away from this. Pretend nothing happened."

The leader pretended to consider her words. "Hm, let's see...no. You just don't want to get hurt. Well, taste this, girlie!" He turned his sword on her. 

Rosemary took another breath. It had been worth a shot. With that final deep breath, she widened her stance and drew her sword.


	3. Welcome to Vale

Glynda needed to return to Beacon. She had probably needed to be back hours ago. There were still preparations that needed to be completed for initiation. The new students would arrive in a week, and the older students had already begun returning from break a few days ago. It was shaping up to be a busy year. Only, she wasn't ready to go back. Not yet. 

Something strange had come to Vale. She didn't know what, but that's what she had been trying to figure out. What she did know was that there was something odd about that girl. The girl that was now nowhere to be seen. While there were a few people on the streets, none had a braid of brown hair, leather armor, or a green sarong around their hips. Where had she gone?

A ringing sound came from Glynda's pocket. She glanced at her Scroll with a frown. Doctor Oobleck. Of course he would be the first to notice—and to point out—that she was late. She sighed. Maybe it was time to head back. 

"Help! Somebody help!" She looked up from her Scroll in surprise to see a Faunus girl running down the sidewalk. "Help! They're going to kill her! She needs help!" the fox-eared girl cried. 

Most people on the street looked at the girl with a mixture of uncertainty and alarm. A few backed away when she came near. Others kept walking without looking at her. 

Glynda held out an arm to stop the girl before she ran past. "What is it? What's going on?" she asked. 

The girl looked at her with wide eyes. "She's in trouble!"

"She?"

"The girl! She saved me and now they're going to make her pay for it! They're going to kill her!"

"They? Who's they?"

"They...they're men...thugs. They wanted to teach me a lesson for trying to eat at the diner and she stopped them. She...oh, we need to hurry!"

The diner. The girl. Well, now Glynda knew where she went. Her Scroll started ringing again, and she swiftly silenced it. Bartholomew would have to wait. "Show me."

The Faunus led her to a deserted street a few blocks away. It was silent. The girl pointed. "That alley there."

Riding crop in hand, Glynda hurried over to the alley. She raised her crop, ready for a fight, but stopped short a few steps in. Four men lay slumped on the ground, unmoving. They were unconscious. One of them groaned faintly. Er, mostly unconscious. 

Still on alert, she surveyed the scene. Small black objects littered the ground. They were shiny like glass or obsidian, and they looked similar to crossbow bolts. She carefully picked one up. It turned to dust in her hand. Ah, Dust. 

As her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the alley, she noticed little dark spots on the ground like ink or...blood. Sure enough, a short sword lay abandoned, its silver blade red with blood. A quick search of the men revealed cuts and bruises, but no serious wounds visible. The blood did not belong to them. 

The alleyway abruptly stopped in a dead end less than twenty feet away, so the only place someone could have run was back to the street or...

One of the men groaned again and struggled to sit up. Glynda flicked her crop, slamming him against the wall where he stayed pinned. "What happened?" she demanded. "Where is the girl?"

The man held up a hand, shakily pointing upwards. She released him, and he slumped back to the ground. As she looked up to see where he had been pointing, something flitted past her face. Her hand snatched it out of the air. It was a single, cream-colored feather little more than a foot in length. And it was identical to the one she'd found earlier in an alley very similar to this. 

She glanced up again. The two buildings surrounding her were at least four stories high with no obvious way to climb up. With a snap of her crop, she leaped, flying up through the air. Her stilettos clicked on the roof as she landed with ease. The sunlight momentarily blinded her after the darkness of the alley, and at first it looked like the rooftops of Vale were deserted. Then there was a brief flash of brown and green two rooftops away. She darted across the roof and hopped to the next one, flicking her crop as she did so. It was in this way that she made it to the roof where she had seen the flash of color. She waited. Another flash. And she continued the chase. 

This pattern only lasted a few minutes before she lost the trail. She waited, scanning the rooftops, but there was no flash of color or movement. Concerned and a tad frustrated, she examined her surroundings. There was a building several stories higher than the rest a few roofs away, and its sign could be seen sticking up from the ground below. It was the hotel she had passed by earlier in the day, and it had been outside that hotel where she had found the first feather. 

Now with a final destination in mind, she hopped from rooftop to rooftop, flicking her crop to build up speed, and with a final snap leaped effortlessly to clear the top of the hotel's side. This roof too was empty, but not abandoned. A makeshift tent of blankets had been set up against the parapet for some protection from the wind. A messenger bag and duffel bag lay next to the tent, both open with their contents strewn about. There were spots of blood around the bags as well as smeared on them—a lot more blood than in the alley. A small white box lay open a little distance away from the rest of the stuff. There was a red handprint on it. She took a step closer. It looked like a medical kit. 

"Stay back!" a voice demanded. Two black objects suddenly struck the ground near Glynda's feet, and she had to use her crop to summon a small shield to stop them from ricocheting into her. Warning shots. "What do you want?"

The voice was female—and scared—but its owner was nowhere to be seen. The roof was flat, so there were no hiding spots. The girl was camouflaged. Hm, useful Semblance, but unhelpful to Glynda in this situation. 

"I'm not here to hurt you," Glynda said. 

"You've been following me." Her voice came from the left. "At least since this morning. Why?" So she had noticed. Impressive. 

And that was a good question. "Why don't you tell me?" When there was no answer, Glynda said, "You seem like an interesting girl."

"No, when someone looks interesting you talk to them." From the right now. "You don't stalk them!"

Fair point.  _Good job, Goodwitch. That'll get the girl to trust you_. Maybe Glynda had been spending too much time in Ozpin's circle. "I am a Huntress," she said, feeling faintly annoyed, mostly with herself. "A guardian, not a stalker."

"Huntresses can be bought." Back to the left. "And many aren't impartial."

Glynda subtly aimed her crop to the left. Nothing. "Why would I want to kill you?" No response. Right, like she was going to answer that. Glynda tried again. "I am Glynda Goodwitch, a professor at Beacon Academy."

"Beacon?" came the surprised reply. Right in the middle of the roof.  _Gotcha_. 

Glynda pointed her crop and blindly reached for the girl's energy. The girl's Aura flickered, and she stumbled backwards, now visible. She abruptly lost her balance and fell back against the parapet, sliding down into a sitting position. Except for the rapid rising and falling of her chest, she didn't try to move or get up. Glynda went to approach her, but was stopped by the appearance of a black crossbow pointed at her chest. The girl held it awkwardly in her left hand, her right being occupied with pressing a formerly white cloth to her stomach, now soaked through with blood. The crossbow shook. 

Glynda, who could've easily disarmed the girl with her riding crop, held her hands up and slowly went to pick up the medical kit. The girl watched her warily before lowering the bow with a sigh of relief, like it had been an effort to keep holding it. Glynda finally crossed the roof to the girl and kneeled before her. She quickly rummaged through the kit. It was surprisingly well-stocked. She had enough knowledge and supplies to stabilize the girl long enough to find better treatment. 

The girl's breathing was uneven, and her face was pale and pained. She closed her eyes as Glynda took over putting pressure on the wound. 

"Eyes open," Glynda ordered. "Stay awake."

She did as told, but it looked like it took effort. 

"What were you thinking?" Glynda asked. "You could've been killed."

"Still time," the girl murmured. It sounded like it was meant to be a joke, but the fear in her eyes was clear. 

"Tch. You'll be fine. I've seen worse." Though that was true, that wasn't to say it still couldn't become worse. 

"I...I didn't want to...to fight alone...but there was no...time," the girl gasped out through gritted teeth as Glynda worked. "I tried...talking. Stupid move."

Glynda was faintly surprised. So the girl actually did think things through. The near fight over the sandwich would've suggested otherwise. And to talk first...that was almost unheard of in this city. 

"Your cuff," the girl said. 

"Hm?" Glynda looked at her sleeve, which was getting covered in blood. Not again... She had just gotten it cleaned. She sighed. "It happens." 

"I'm in this...kingdom less than...a week...and already I get...stabbed. How's that...possible?" She looked overwhelmed. 

"Easy. Just relax," Glynda said. Getting worked up wouldn't help anything. "Why don't you tell me your name?"

The girl's eyes had narrowed to slits. "Rosemary," she said faintly.  _Rosemary_ , the color of her eyes. 

"Well, Rosemary, welcome to Vale."


	4. Interview

"Welcome to Vale." That had been the last thing Rosemary heard before she blacked out. When she awoke, she was no longer on the hard concrete of the rooftop. Instead she was in a single bed in a small room. Sunlight streamed onto her face from a single window, making her blink. Carefully, she eased herself into a sitting position, her whole body aching. 

She was alone. 

Besides the warmth of the pale yellow walls, the room had a barren feel to it. There were only the bed, a chair at its foot, a small bedside stand, and a collection of unidentifiable medical devices and equipment. She could've been in a hospital, but she doubted it. There was a red quilt on the bed instead of sheets, and the chair, bedside stand, and single door leading out of the room were all made of wood. There was no overwhelming antiseptic smell, and she couldn't hear any activity outside of the room. 

She sat up a little straighter, hissing through her teeth at the soreness in her stomach, and pushed the quilt off her. Her heart skipped a beat. Her clothes were gone...or at least the clothes she had been wearing before. She now wore a white tank top and a fresh pair of jeans, which were still her clothes, just not the ones she last remembered wearing. Her green t-shirt, other pair of jeans, green sarong, armor, weapons—they were all gone. Even her boots were gone, as her feet were now bare. And all her belongings...she had left those on the roof. 

She swung her legs off the bed and then paused a moment to remind herself to go slowly. There were cloth strips wrapped around her stomach underneath her shirt, and there was a bandage along the inside of her arm that probably had something to do with the IV by the bed. She shivered at the thought of having had a needle in her while she was out. 

She carefully stood up, the hard wooden floor feeling cold beneath her feet, and crossed the little room to the door. She quietly tried the knob. It was locked. 

Panic rose inside her. Somebody had tended to her and changed her clothes. Somebody had  _seen_  her. Was that why she wasn't in a hospital? Was she a prisoner here?

However, when she went to try the window, her fears eased slightly. It was also locked, but from the inside. Even if it turned out she was a prisoner, then she could still escape. 

She glanced out the window in an attempt to get her bearings, but could see nothing but trees. It was aesthetically pleasing, but unhelpful to her. 

The doorknob abruptly rattled. Heart leaping into her throat, she whirled around to see an old man enter the room. He was short and balding with gray hair and squinty eyes. He smiled at her, revealing several missing teeth. "Good. You're awake," he said. 

Rosemary tightened the muscles near her shoulders, causing warmth to blanket her back. 

The man waved a hand dismissively. "No need to hide from me. I'm the one that took care of you. Wouldn't even let my assistants in the room."

It took a moment to find her voice. "Where am I?" she asked warily. 

"You're in my clinic," the man said cheerfully. "All your stuff is here too. Your rescuer wanted to take you to a hospital, but I decided to keep you here when I found out what you were. Doctors are so nosy." He laughed. "I would know. I am one." 

Well, that was a few questions answered. She felt somewhat reassured. Somewhat. 

The man—the doctor—indicated for her to sit down on the bed and lift her shirt so he could check her bandages. He put a pair of glasses on and undid the wrapping a little ways. His hands were icy against her skin. 

The doctor made a satisfied noise. "Much better. You must have a strong Aura. I had thought you were going to bleed to death when you were brought to me yesterday. Look now! I can probably go ahead and remove the stitches. But we'll get to that later. You have a visitor."

"A visitor?" she echoed. Who would want to visit her? She didn't know anyone. 

"Yes, yes," he said distractedly, rewrapping her bandages. "I assume she wants to check on you, but who knows. You can never be sure what  _they_  want. Wait here, please." And with that, he walked out. 

The second the door closed behind him, Rosemary was back on her feet. A nervous energy buzzed through her, and she had to brace her hands against the windowsill to keep from tossing up the glass and taking off. This was it. This was progress. For better or for worse, something was going to happen. Hopefully, it would bring her closer to her goal.

_Click, click, click_. Her heart pounded in response to the approaching footsteps. The doorknob rattled. The hinges creaked. She tightened her grip on the sill.  _Click, click_. In the room now. A pause. A falter in step. The faint sound of a sharp intake of breath. She closed her eyes. 

"Well,  _that_  certainly explains a lot."

Rosemary slowly turned around, keeping one hand on the sill. It was the Huntress from before. Glynda Goodwitch stood with posture straight and arms crossed, the riding crop she held running parallel with her left arm. She gazed at Rosemary with a complex expression, though it lacked the sternness she had seen at the diner. 

Rosemary shyly lowered her gaze, both surprised and impressed that the Huntress had bothered to maintain eye contact. Her heart continued to race. She felt cornered, and her instincts kept screaming at her to fight or fly. Only, she had no weapon and there was nowhere to run to. 

Finally, Goodwitch asked, "How are you feeling?"

Somehow, Rosemary managed to get her tongue to work. "Better, thank you. I suppose I owe you my life..." she trailed off awkwardly. 

Goodwitch made that hum in her throat again, like disapproval or acceptance. She adjusted her glasses in an effectively intimidating way. "While I do not condone reckless behavior, especially in one so young, it would seem that that girl also owes you her life."

Rosemary was unsure how to respond to that. 

Luckily, the Huntress continued, "My question—two questions, actually—is: Why is that the case, and how are you still here to tell about it?"

This caught Rosemary off guard. Why? "I...I heard a scream and went to investigate. I saw the girl pinned against the wall by those guys, and I realized there wasn't enough time to get help, so I acted."

Goodwitch's expression changed into something else complex. "That is what you did, not why you did it."

"Pardon?"

Instead of answering, she responded with another question. "Do you know who those men were?" 

Rosemary did not. "I think they were at that diner to...er, yesterday afternoon, but that was the first time I saw them."

Goodwitch reached into her pocket and pulled out a large, black Scroll, and after tapping on it a few times, she held it up for Rosemary to see. The screen showed a news report with the headline "Extremist Clan Leader Behind Bars," and right underneath it...was a mugshot of leader of the group that Rosemary had fought. Rosemary's jaw dropped. Had she done that? 

"Those...vagabonds are part of a radical group known for their violent tactics. They call themselves progressives and liberators—they're regressive and barbaric if you ask me—but their main focus is Anti-Faunus Rights." She paused to put the Scroll away before continuing again. "Occasionally one or two of them do something stupid enough to get arrested, but the rest—especially their leader—know how not to get caught. Until now."

"I didn't...I didn't know," Rosemary stuttered. "I mean, they were just kind of there. They weren't even being subtle about it."

The corners of Goodwitch's mouth rose slightly. She looked amused. "Subtlety has never been their strong suit, but there are politicians with money and influence that support them. Of course, most people are smart enough to stay out of the way of big men with guns." She waited a beat, as if to see if Rosemary would catch the insult, but Rosemary stayed quiet. "Luckily, you weren't, and that certainly seemed to catch them off guard. Now there is a witness very willing to testify, the blood of a Faunus on a sword belonging to the leader, and a squad of police that was able to find the men in that alley in possession of some...illegal materials. All four of them were arrested before they even woke up." She crossed her arms in a satisfied way. 

Rosemary ran a hand through her hair, letting her bangs weave through her fingers. "Wow," she said numbly. She briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she asked, "Do they know it was me?"

Goodwitch hesitated before answering. "We're keeping you out of reports, police and otherwise. You will not be asked to go to court. There are plenty of other witnesses finally willing to come forward. And you can be sure  _someone_  is now keeping an eye on you. However, there is no denying the fact that they know what you look like, and their leader has been known to hold grudges."

Rosemary blew out a breath, silently kicking herself. This wouldn't be good. 

"We'll do what we can to keep you safe. Though you seem to be able to handle yourself," Goodwitch said, her voice a level softer. Her Scroll abruptly chirped, and she glanced at it with a frown. She clicked it shut a little harder than necessary and sighed. "Tell me, had you known who those men were, would you have made the same decision back at that alley?"

That was a rather serious question, and Rosemary didn't answer right away. What would she have done if she had known that the potential consequences weren't going to end at a knife to the gut? Was there even a difference? 

"I'd like to think that I would make the same choice," she said finally. "I knew going in there that I'd be at a serious disadvantage. I knew that I could lose my life."

"And why did you go in there?" Goodwitch asked. 

Rosemary felt the muscles in her back involuntarily tighten as she bristled. "Because there was no one else who would," she said more fiercely than she had intended. "There was no one else around and no time to get help. I couldn't just stand there and watch someone get hurt or maybe even killed, all the while knowing that I could do something—that I was the only one able to do something, but chose not to."

"Yet you had no obligation to risk your life," Goodwitch pointed out. 

"That may be true," Rosemary agreed, "but I feel I had an obligation to help in some way. A bystander is capable of being as guilty as the one who strikes the blow. The action I chose as being the most effective just happened to be the most risky."

Goodwitch narrowed her eyes. "And do you think it would have been worth it had you lost your life while saving the girl?"

Rosemary felt sheepish. "Well, I wasn't planning on dying, to be honest. Heh, maybe I am a bit overconfident."

Goodwitch smiled. It wasn't a full smile, but it was enough to count. "I get the feeling you'll grow out of it."

Rosemary relaxed, feeling like the strange interrogation was coming to an end, though her heart continued to race. A thought occurred to her. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?" she said. 

The Huntress blinked and pushed her glasses up her nose. "Be my guest."

"You're a Huntress," Rosemary began slowly. "What would you have done in a similar situation—in one you knew you might not get out of?"

Goodwitch looked surprised, and it was a heartbeat before the smile returned. "Hmph," she responded, despite not looking upset at all. "I would like to think that I would've done the same thing, as recklessly...lacking of common sense as it is."

Rosemary grinned, deciding she really liked the Huntress. 

At that moment, something shifted, like a boat that had just picked up anchor. There was a slight spinning motion, and Rosemary tightened her grip on the windowsill. Suddenly, the whole room sharply tilted and lurched to the side. Her hand slipped. 

Something caught her underneath her arms, stopping her from hitting the ground, but she had closed her eyes, unable to watch the spinning. Gently, she was eased down onto the bed. She put her head in her hands, taking deep breaths. She felt seasick. 

There was a sigh. "You shouldn't be up so soon." A cool hand touched the back of her neck. "Have you heard enough now, Ozpin?" came the grumble.

The hand moved to her shoulder and softly pushed her back. She found herself leaning back against a pillow, which had been propped up. At a light tap on her legs with a tough, thin object, she pulled them up on the bed. Gradually, the spinning lessened, and Rosemary relaxed, her heart rate finally slowing down. She opened her eyes to see Goodwitch looking at her with concern. "I'm fine," she said faintly. "Just a little dizzy."

"Right. Of course," the Huntress responded. It sounded like sarcasm. "Just stay in bed."

"Can do," Rosemary said lightly. 

Goodwitch crossed her arms again. "Hmph."

A noise or maybe even a feeling drew Rosemary's eyes to the doorway before she fully registered what she was sensing. Seconds later, a man walked through the open door. He was relatively tall, about the same height Goodwitch was with her heels. He was dressed semi-formally with an unzipped black suit over a buttoned vest and a green shirt, and there was a small, purple, cross-shaped pin on the cowl around his neck. He also wore black trouser shoes and long dark-green pants. His tousled hair was pure silver and he carried a strange, thin metal cane with gears inlaid in its handle. However, he didn't seem that old, as his sharp-featured face suggested he was middle-aged. His thin, intelligent hazel eyes peered over a pair of shaded glass spectacles with a twisted frame that gave new meaning to wireframe.   

The man paused in the doorway, putting both hands firmly on his cane, and regarded Rosemary with a look not of surprise, but of vague interest. Unease settled over her. This was someone who was calculating. 

"Sorry I'm late," he said good-naturedly. 

Goodwitch gave him a sour look. "Oh, you're never late," she responded dryly.  

The man chuckled and closed the door behind him. "Well, that may be the case, but I see nothing wrong in letting you take over my usual role every once in a while. Besides, the research proved to be more time consuming than expected." He turned to Rosemary. "Your records were made to be quite difficult to find, Miss Eule, and they are certainly lacking."

Goodwitch expanded her Scroll. "Rosemary Eule, female, age sixteen, not a resident of any of the four kingdoms—there is not much information beyond that. Her parents' records are here too, but it seems some of the data has been erased." She looked up from the screen. "Species, for example."

As she had been speaking, the man had moved the chair to the side of the bed. "You can be sure that none of them mentioned that you are a Faunus," he continued once he had sat down. "And quite a remarkable one at that."

"I wasn't aware that species mattered," Rosemary said defensively. 

"A valid assumption," the man agreed. "In most cases it doesn't, but this seems to be a special case. It is not everyday that an ancient legend turns up in the flesh."

Rosemary jolted up straight in surprise, causing fierce pain to shoot through her stomach. She gasped at the bite of her wound. Goodwitch began to reach a hand out, but Rosemary recoiled. "Who are you?" she hissed through gritted teeth. 

"We are Huntsmen, teachers, protectors of the people—whatever title you prefer." He gave her a kind look. "Don't worry. We do not mean to do you any harm. Just call us curious."

"What do you want?" Rosemary asked warily. The trapped feeling was quickly returning. She didn't want to be in this bed. She didn't want to be injured. She just wanted to leave. But where was there to go?

"To know who you are," he stated simply. 

Rosemary's unease grew. "I thought you already knew that."

"Then perhaps the better question would be: Why are you here?" He paused a beat. "It is an impressive coincidence that days after you show up a man dedicated to suppressing the Faunus is brought down."

"You think I targeted him?" Rosemary asked, alarmed. "I swear I didn't know who he was until today."

"We believe you," Goodwitch assured her. 

"But your presence in Vale is certainly no coincidence," the man said. "Someone went to great lengths to keep you hidden, but now here you are. I find it hard to believe that you came to this kingdom alone just to live on a hotel rooftop."

"No, of course not," Rosemary quietly confirmed. She hesitated, unsure how much to tell them. 

The Huntsman leaned forward. "Do you know who I am?" he asked. 

Still feeling uncertain, Rosemary let her eyes travel over the him. He looked and talked as if he was a nice person—and maybe he was—but warning bells rang in her head. There was something going on beneath the surface, and there was certainly more to him than met the eye. Canes in Remnant, for one thing, did not have levers on their handles for decoration. 

"I don't know," she admitted, "but I can take a guess. You're Professor Ozpin, the headmaster of Beacon Academy."

Ozpin smiled like she was a student who had solved a problem correctly. "Hello."

"I didn't know what you looked like, but I've been told about you," she said. "I've been told that you were the person who would help me."

The two teachers exchanged a glance. Goodwitch's expression was surprised. Ozpin's was complicated. 

"What do you mean?" Goodwitch asked. 

"I...I don't know," Rosemary confessed. "I came to Vale because I was instructed to. I was told that I had a role to play—that I would be needed for something. I have no clue why or for what. My only instructions were to get to Vale and to find you."

Goodwitch looked skeptical. "And you just obeyed? You thought it was a good idea to travel to the kingdom by yourself with few supplies and practically no information?"

Ozpin looked intrigued. "Who told you all this?"

Rosemary began to feel overwhelmed and helpless. It was certainly not a good feeling. "I know it sounds stupid, and I know it doesn't make sense, but you have to understand that the one who instructed me is the wisest person I know. He has knowledge that I couldn't even hope to obtain in my lifetime, and I trust him with my life." She looked at Ozpin. "You might've met him. That was the impression he gave me."

"It's possible," Ozpin said. "I'm familiar with a few of the nomad communities."

"You should be familiar with mine. An agent of yours stays with us on occasion." Rosemary struggled to recall the Huntsman. He had had some sort of animal name associated with the color black. "He carried a large scythe. I think he called himself Qrow."

"Qrow?" Goodwitch face palmed. "All this time, that drunken bas—"

"Glynda," Ozpin gently scolded. He addressed Rosemary again. "Ah, you're referring to the old panther, are you not? I forget his name." 

"I'm not sure if you would know his original name," Rosemary remarked, "but now he usually goes by York. He's a tribe elder—our leader if we had one—and he's my mentor. He taught me everything I know."

"A good thing too, or you probably would have needed more than a few stitches," Ozpin commented. "And he's the one who told you to find me?"

Rosemary nodded. "Yes. I don't suppose you would know why?"

Ozpin looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't know him that well, and certainly not why he would send you to me."

Rosemary's hopes fell, but only by a little bit. They hadn't been that high to begin with. "Yeah, I'd figured as much." If York himself had known, then he surely would've told her. There probably wasn't anyone that knew. 

"Why don't you tell us about your journey?" Goodwitch encouraged. "Surely you had some sort of plan?"

"If you could call it that," Rosemary half-joked. "I was given supplies and assigned two of our best warriors to escort me most of the way here." It had been a fairly uneventful trip with only a few Grimm here and there. The journey had actually become easier after her friends had left and she had been able to travel at her own pace. "I made it to Vale no problem, not counting the loss of my food and money. That's about when the details of the plan became sketchy."

"To some it would seem nonexistent," Goodwitch remarked. 

"I suppose it was less of a plan and more of 'just wait and see,'" Rosemary admitted. "I knew I couldn't just march into Beacon and tell you exactly what I am saying right now. I thought it would make me look crazy. So I figured I would try to attend the academy instead."

Ozpin gave her a questioning look. "You want to attend my school?"

Rosemary flushed. "Yes," she said shyly. "It seemed like the best option. I could get some extra training, learn how to help people, and be nearby for when whatever's supposed to happen happens. I knew there was a good chance I wouldn't be accepted, especially since I'm a little young, but I figured I would wait a year if that was the case. I'd get a job, establish myself in Vale, and try again later." And now her naïveté was firmly established at least.  

Ozpin and Goodwitch exchanged another glance. "Tell me," Ozpin said to Rosemary, "why do you want to come to my school? You personally."

This caught Rosemary off guard, and she didn't answer right away. Her blush deepened. "Well, I would be lying if I said I didn't think it would be awesome to go to Beacon. I have a lot of respect for the school. It's very diverse, and it's one of the two main academies that don't ask you to declare your species." She hesitated again before admitting, "I truly do want to learn how to help people, whether they are a part of my community or not, and I believe that at Beacon I can learn how best to achieve that."

"And you don't believe your mentor can help you achieve that knowledge?" Ozpin asked. 

"My mentor knows a lot, but my community is very isolated," she said. "I think there is a lot to gain by broadening my horizons and experiencing more of the world. See things from a different perspective."

Ozpin glanced back at Goodwitch, though the latter only briefly met his gaze with a shrug before crossing her arms and turning away. Rather than look perturbed, he smiled. "Well, Miss Eule," he said, "I believe an exception can be made. It is only a difference of one year, after all."

Rosemary wasn't sure she'd heard him right. "What?"

"You'll have to take the entrance exam like every other student, of course, as well as an additional aptitude test to ensure that you can handle the academic level of the school, but I suspect you'll have no problem," he continued cheerfully. "Welcome to Beacon."

"I...I..." Rosemary couldn't speak. She was dumbfounded. Surely there was a catch. "I have no money. I can't afford it. I can't even afford a sandwich, much less the doctor."

Ozpin appeared unconcerned. "A high enough score on the exam will grant you a scholarship. That should cover education as well as room and board. Books can be borrowed from the school library, and your financial status warrants you enough aid to cover uniforms, notebooks, a Scroll, and other school supplies. Money for Dust, meals purchased elsewhere, basic necessities, and other items will be loaned to you by the school and can be payed back at any time free of interest. As for your medical bills, consider them taken care of."

Goodwitch looked strangely smug. 

Rosemary had to remember how to work her mouth. "I don't know what to say."

"Keep in mind that this is an elite academy," Ozpin warned. "You will be required to work at your very best and to do well to represent the school. You must listen to your teachers at all times. Failure to do so and they will have every right to give you a punishment of their choosing. Further misconduct and you may be expelled, mission or no."

That was a sobering thought. "I understand," Rosemary said. "Thank you. This is...this is...I have no words."

Ozpin stood up. "We will send someone tomorrow to bring you and your belongings to the school and to administer the aptitude test. If you pass, you will be given a room to stay in until initiation in six days time."

"And if I fail?" Rosemary dared to ask. 

"You will still be given a place to stay until other arrangements can be made," he said simply. "We wouldn't want you going back to the streets, or rather, the rooftops. For now, though, get some rest. You have a long day ahead of you."

"Thank you," she said again. 

"My pleasure." He began to turn away, but stopped and faced her once more. "One more thing, while I'm here. Do you mind?" He gestured with his hands. 

Understanding his meaning, she nodded her assent. She tried to lean forward away from the pillows, but gasped in pain, her stomach throbbing. 

"Here," Goodwitch offered. Gently putting one hand on Rosemary's shoulder and the other on her lower back, the Huntress supported Rosemary as she straightened. 

Panting, Rosemary said faintly, "Watch out."

And she spread her wings.


	5. Headaches

Glynda was in a bad mood. This was nothing new; a lot of things usually irritated her. Today, however, the thing that irritated her happened to be the one thing she never liked to be irritated with: Ozpin. She could feel him gazing at her from over the rim of his mug as she tapped furiously at her Scroll, and it was an effort to ignore him as she worked. 

Another year, another need for last minute changes to the register. What about paperwork? The girl practically had none. No transcripts, no detailed records of any kind—she was a citizen of nowhere. It was almost as if she didn't exist, though Glynda supposed that was the point. Glynda exhaled forcefully through her nose. She had gotten used to Oz letting in students with questionable transcripts, but nothing at all? Normally she wouldn't mind making something up, but it was less than a week before initiation. She was still getting everything ready for the new teams. 

The new teams. There were only four students per team. How many first years were they at now? She tapped at her Scroll faster. What was she supposed to do if the teams were uneven? She couldn't forge a team. Neither could she kick already accepted students out or find more this close to the first day of school. Did Ozpin even think any of this through?

"She makes the teams even," Ozpin said abruptly. 

Glynda startled at the sound of his voice, and her finger brushed against an important document she'd had open, causing it to vanish. It was a few terrifying heartbeats before she could find it again. Finally, she managed to pull up the register, and her muscles relaxed a fraction. He was right. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him giving her a patient look. "Now will you please take a break?" he asked. "There's no harm in sitting down for a few minutes, at least while we're on the ship."

She shook her head and forced herself to relax her jaw enough to speak. "No, there are still things I need to do. We weren't even ready before—" She bit her tongue before she could finish the snap and refocused on the Scroll. 

Ozpin sighed, and she imagined him hanging his head slightly in a tired way. "Then please sit down before we hit any turbulence. You might find it distracting if you go flying."

After a few seconds of hesitation, she closed her Scroll with a sigh and took the seat next to him. It wouldn't hurt to take a short break. She could still feel Oz gazing at her, but she stiffly pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and kept her own gaze out the window, watching the clouds that blocked the view of the ground below. He knew she was irritated—she never hid it—though she was fairly certain he didn't know why. There was no doubt he wanted to know, but he didn't press. He never did. 

There was a long period of silence, and as time passed she found herself growing tired. A dull ache began to form in the front of her skull. Slumping in her seat, she put her fingers to her temples only to feel the pangs become gradually sharper.  _Not another one..._  Searching her pockets for something to kill it, she found nothing but some money and her two Scrolls. 

"Damn," she softly spat. 

A gentle pressure touched her back. It was warm as if it had been in front of a fire...or holding a coffee mug. "Relax," Oz soothed. "This solves a problem. If anything, it should make some parts of our lives easier."

She might've laughed had her head not hurt so much. Solved a problem? That was one way of looking at it, though it certainly didn't make things much easier for her. Was he even being serious? Surely he didn't believe what he was saying. 

Suspicious, she finally looked at her superior, causing him to draw his hand back as she sat up straighter. He appeared quite unconcerned as he shifted his mug back to his right hand. What was he up to this time? "Why did you let her in?" she asked. "Not to even out the teams. And surely not because of what she...not because she's..." She faltered, the words  _legend_ ,  _goddess_ , and  _ghost_  not feeling right on her tongue.

Another fairy tale come true. It was unbelievable. Or wasn't it?

"Not to even out the teams," he confirmed, "and I'll admit I'm curious to know more." That was the understatement of the year. She had been up half the night helping him track down records, and she doubted he had slept during the other half. "But I also believe she has a lot of potential."

Glynda raised her eyebrows. "You really do expect her to become a Huntress."

"I expect her to fulfill a role," he corrected. "And I expect it is our job to provide her with the tools to do so. The panther made a risky move sending her to us, but I believe it to be for the best. After all, she will be safer in the school, especially after recent events."

Surprise momentarily smothered her headache. "I thought you said you didn't know what was going on?"

His lips rose faintly in an unreadable smile. "That may be because I don't." Rather than elaborate, he took a sip of his coffee. 

"I don't understand. Surely you aren't taking her word for it? Her story doesn't make any sense, and she clearly wasn't telling us everything. The whole situation is odd." It took an effort not to make her words sound clipped. 

"I believe every word that came out of her mouth, and so do you," he said calmly. "She was completely honest with us and answered every question willingly. Except in cases when it was natural to be cautious, of course." He paused to give Glynda an evaluating look. "What I don't understand is why you seem to be against letting her in. I thought you liked her?"

"I'm not. And I do," she said stiffly, not bothering to elaborate. 

He sighed. "So it is me after all. Are you going to tell me, or am I supposed to keep guessing?"

She slumped in her seat again and pressed her fingers back to her temples, feeling like her brain was repeatedly trying to pound its way through her skull. "No. I don't know."

"That was dreadfully unclear," he noted. "Could it be that instead of being upset that I chose to trust her, you're actually upset that she doesn't trust you?"

She shot him a hard look. "Where in the world would you get that from?" she said sharply. 

He smiled knowingly. "I got it from the fact that you were unusually resistant to ask the questions I had requested. Not to mention that you didn't threaten to give her a slap on the wrist, so she must have done something right."

Butterflies rose in her stomach, indicating the ship had begun its descent to Beacon, and the feeling combined with the knives in her head made her feel queasy. "Damn it!" she spat not so softly, closing her eyes.

Ozpin chuckled. 

"Why is this so funny?" she growled. 

"I just haven't seen you take to a student like this before," he said lightly. "It is rather enjoyable to watch."

"If you plan on being insulting, then you can keep pretending like you include me in the process," she snapped. It was uncalled for, but considering that her head was nearly between her legs, the consequences of it were the least of her problems at the moment. 

"Glynda," he sighed, gently putting his hand on her back. 

She took a series of deep breaths. The nausea slowly subsided, but she didn't dare try to move until they were on the ground. Thank goodness there were no students to see this; it was already embarrassing enough as it was. 

"Sorry, sir," she murmured, half glad that she was unable to lift her head. "That was inappropriate."

"Glynda," he repeated, his tone hard to identify. Was that amusement? "You know that if you have an opinion I want you to voice it." Oh yeah, definitely amusement. 

"Really?" she joked. "Well, that's good to know, otherwise we might've had a problem. Or two or—How long have I known you?"

He chuckled again, though it was drowned out as the engines revved. There was a loud thud beneath them, and the whole ship shuddered, followed by clunking and hissing as the boarding ramp lowered. She opened her eyes and carefully sat up. Her head still killed her, but there seemed to be no more danger of her embarrassing herself in an unladylike way, not that Ozpin would ever fault her for it. The other teachers on the other hand—they would never let it go. 

They had barely set foot off the ship onto the stone path leading to the school when there was a flash of green and white. Suddenly Bartholomew was keeping stride next to them. "Professors!" he greeted cheerfully. "How did it go?"

"Very well, Bartholomew," Ozpin answered. "I was just about to call you. We have a last minute addition to the register, and I need you to administer an exam—tomorrow at the earliest. She has no transcripts or formal education of any known kind."

"Ah, so a special exam then," the doctor noted. "Will there need to be a physical part, or will initiation suffice?"

"Without transcripts, it would help to learn what she knows," Oz mused. "Yes, include a physical part."

"Tomorrow?" Glynda questioned. "Isn't that a little soon? She nearly bled to death just yesterday."

"That's why it's important to determine her level of fitness now before she gets killed during initiation. There's no need to push her. Just test her knowledge and skill set. Initiation will determine if she's actually ready." He looked at Glynda. "That would be your area of expertise. Can you handle it?"

"Of course, sir," she replied. 

"Good. Bartholomew, how goes the lesson planning?"

"I should finish a day or two ahead of schedule!" the doctor said swiftly. 

"Excellent. If you do finish ahead of time, please help Professor Port. I think he's having trouble with efficiency."

The look on the doctor's face in response to Ozpin's understatement was amusing. They all knew exactly what Peter was having trouble with—or, rather, having trouble not doing. Peter was a good man, but to say he was long-winded was like saying that the Grimm were not too fond of humanoids. 

Ozpin slowed to a stop and tilted his head back to look at where the bright green light shone from the top of the Vale CCT. The other two teachers stopped as well. 

"Oh! I almost forgot!" Bartholomew exclaimed. He abruptly thrust a small plastic bottle into Glynda's hands. "I found this on the floor of my classroom! I believe you dropped it."

Glynda raised a hand to stop her glasses from slipping off her nose as she examined the label. Painkillers. So that was where they went. "Thank you, Doctor," she said coolly, trying to maintain some dignity. 

"We're almost ready," Oz said, possibly to himself. "As usual, Glynda will handle the new students, I will handle initiation, and then it is time for a new school year to begin." 

"And an exciting year at that!" the doctor said. "But I'm afraid you must excuse me! The test will not prepare itself. Good day!"

"Good day," Ozpin replied, the words barely leaving his lips before the doctor dashed off in another blur. 

Glynda put a hand to her face, feeling a little overwhelmed by his energy. 

"You should lie down," Oz remarked. "We have a long week ahead of us."

She sighed. "We have a long year ahead of us."

"And hopefully a long life," he said with good nature, "but I find that it is better to take it one day at a time."

She nearly smiled. That was certainly one way of looking at it. 

They resumed walking in silence for a while, and though the headache remained she felt a little better than before. 

Just before they reached the walls of the school, Ozpin spoke. "Oh, and Glynda? I might be taking her word for it, but I doubt she is the one we need to worry about."

This was unsurprising. "I'd thought as much. What do you plan to do?"

He hesitated a thoughtful beat before answering. "Nothing for now. You were right: there is still much left to do, but I think this matter requires an investigation of our own. The whole situation seems  _odd_."

Now she did smile. "And to think I was starting to doubt you. I should have known better."

His response was dismissive. "It's perfectly all right. I think we've all been under a bit of stress lately. Faith is hard to have when—"

_Bang!_ The ground trembled, followed by the appearance of a thin plume of smoke rising up behind the wall. Cheers and shouts rang out, as did another explosion. 

With a growl, Glynda ripped her riding crop out of the strap on her leg. "I swear, if I have to fix another thing—" she began to spit.

Ozpin stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Let me take care of it. You need a break."

"Class hasn't even started yet," she said with exasperation. 

"It will soon, and when it does things will settle down. For now, let them enjoy the last few days of their vacation." He released her shoulder and went on ahead before she could protest. "I expect you to be well-rested when I see you next," he called back, and then he was gone, leaving her standing alone in front of the entrance to the school. 

Her eyes fell on the large statue that stood triumphantly before the great wooden doors. The stone Huntsmen were symbols of courage, skill, determination, and honor. They were noble warriors, keepers of the peace, and defenders of the world. They were the very incarnation of light and hope, and without them the world would fall to the darkness and fear. 

A deep boom and the distinct thunder-like sound of stone crumbling echoed through the air, tearing her gaze away from the statue towards the noticeably larger smoke cloud. With a great effort, she walked in the opposite direction. 

Yes, it was going to be a very long year indeed.


	6. Ready Or Not

By the next afternoon, the doctor had declared Rosemary nearly fully healed and had removed her stitches. Having had nothing to do but sit in a bed for hours and wait for her Aura to regenerate, she was more than ready to leave. The doctor had moved all her belongings to the room overnight, and to her relief everything was there. It was a special relief to be able to reequip her armor and weapons. 

She had barely finished buckling the scabbard that also served as her belt when there was a rapid knocking on the door. Startled and wondering if there was somehow a woodpecker trying to get in, she called tentatively, "Come in!"

In an explosion of color and sound, the door banged open and a man suddenly stood in the room. He was tall, thin, and disheveled with his wild head of bushy broccoli-green hair, slack vivid yellow tie, upturned collar, white shirt halfway untucked from his dark-green pants, and mismatched brown and black shoes. He wore a pair of glasses with thick, round, seemingly opaque lenses that had slipped down his nose, revealing brown eyes. 

The man pushed his glasses back into place. "Ah, Miss Eule, good to see you again!" he said with rapid fire words. "You appear to be rested and recovered and—Splendid! All your belongings are packed and ready to go! That will save some time. The transport is still running and we are already two minutes behind schedule! Now if you are ready we must hurry for Beacon!"

Dazed and slightly alarmed, Rosemary said, "I'm ready, but sorry, I don't remember meeting you before." She was certain she would have. 

"What? Oh, yes, how forgetful of me!" he exclaimed. "You were unconscious from blood loss when we first met! I am Doctor Oobleck, your History professor at Beacon! Well, if you pass this test that is. But we can exchange further pleasantries on the transport! Time is wasting and we have a test to take! Come along, my dear!" He promptly grabbed her heavy duffle bag in one hand and shot out the door in a blur.

Shaking out of her torpid state, she quickly threw her messenger bag over her shoulder and ran after him, tying her hair back as she went. With a hurried goodbye to the old doctor, she exited the front doors of the clinic. The sunlight momentarily blinded her, and she paused, blinking as her eyes adjusted. She smiled in giddy relief as she felt the coolness of the breeze and the warmth of the sun. She was free again, even if she was back among concrete and ugly gray buildings. 

She glanced back at the clinic to see trees sticking up behind it, indicating the edge of the city, and right along the side of the little building, its wings folded like a perched bird, was a small transport. It was the same type of ship that served as the city buses, but painted on the side of it was a symbol of two crossed axes cradled by two laurels. It was the symbol of Beacon Academy. 

Oobleck zipped down the boarding ramp to wave erratically at her. "Three minutes, Miss Eule! This way, please!"

Rosemary trotted over to the ship, and her boots clunked as she went up the metal ramp. The inside was well-lit with unnatural light. There were rows of seats laid out in the same pattern as on the buses, large viewing windows near the front, and another Beacon symbol on a door leading to the cockpit. 

Oobleck, who had been dashing back and forth in front of the viewing windows, slammed to a halt as she walked in. "We're ready! Let's go!" he called. 

She barely had time to find a seat before the engines whirred and the wings thrust down. Her stomach lurched as the ship tilted and rose up into the air. The trees, clinic, and taller buildings quickly shrank in size while the transport gained height. Then, just as clouds started to hug the windows, it leveled out and began to cruise steadily along. 

Rosemary took a breath and tried to get her muscles to loosen. She was very familiar with flying. In fact, she loved it most of the time. However, it was less...appealing when she wasn't the one in control. 

Oobleck gazed out the windows distractedly and took a sip out of a thermos, somehow having remained on his feet throughout the entire takeoff. She stood up and approached him. 

"Doctor," she began a tad nervously, "what exactly is the aptitude test? I mean, what do I have to do?"

The professor turned to look at her. "Ah, yes, you would want to know that, wouldn't you? Well, while I can't tell you exactly what is on the test, I can tell you what it is about. The test is divided into two parts: written and physical. I will be administering you the written part, which will test your knowledge of basic subjects—science, history, geography, etcetera—as well as of weapons, Dust, and Creatures of Grimm. Professor Goodwitch will be administering you the physical part, which will test your ability in combat. This will determine if you are ready to take the Beacon entrance exam, which is a rigorous test of knowledge and skill. Most students spend at least four years preparing at minor combat academies, developing their transcripts so that they do not have to go through the special application process you are currently...going through. As you can see, there are exceptions, and because you are one of those exceptions, I cannot make a conjecture as to how well you might do. Both examinations will be mentally and physically exhausting, so I do hope you are as recovered as you look. And it would appear we are approaching Beacon now."  

It took a few seconds for the last of Oobleck's words to sink in as Rosemary's brain was still trying to register everything beyond "rigorous test." With an effort, she directed her gaze out the window. All her thoughts abruptly stilled in awe. They were gliding over a great expanse of turquoise water contained by sheer cliffs hundreds of feet high. Just beyond the cliffs to their left lay part of the range of dark and rugged mountains that surrounded Vale. To their right was a lush green forest that stretched nearly as far as the eye could see. And on the edge of the cliffs in front of them, sitting between two diamond rivers that went cascading down into the water below, was Beacon. From the distance, the school was little more than a collection of tall, dark towers, but it still radiated grandeur. One tower, right in the heart of the academy, rose higher than the rest, and even though it was the middle of the day, an emerald light shone strongly from its peak. 

Oobleck lowered his glasses to look Rosemary in the eyes. "Now, are you ready, Miss Eule?"

Well, there was only one way to find out. "Yes."


	7. Engine Trouble

"This is ridiculous."

Dustin watched as the wings of the airship briefly shuddered but otherwise remained locked in their upright position as the engines once again made horrible hissing and sputtering noises. 

Saul, who had been fiddling with the sleeves of his coat, glanced up at Dustin's frustrated remark. He looked at his watch. "We've been here thirty minutes. Maybe they're close to fixing it by now." The engines protested with another angry growl, and this time the wings remained still. "Or not," Saul amended.    

"I knew we should've taken another transport when we had the chance," Dustin said with a growl to match the machine. 

Saul, with his endless patience, simply shrugged. "It can't be that much longer."

Dustin spun away from the window. He would smash something if he had to keep looking at tall buildings. He much preferred the farm back at Mistral with its acres of trees and crops and where there was scarcely a building for miles. Vale made him feel...trapped, and not just because of the structures. 

"They probably don't even have horses here," he grumbled. 

Saul didn't bother to look up from what he was doing with his sleeves this time. "The villages outside the city probably do. And hand off the hammer."

Dustin removed his hand from  _Bifrost's_  hilt, not having realized that he had reached inside his coat. "Great, border towns."

He glanced around the corridor. They were in some sort of viewing area in the belly of the ship. It was a long hallway that consisted purely of grand, arching windows on both sides. At each end of the hall was a door flanked by symbols of Beacon. The airship they were in was a large cruiser meant to hold a hundred people for an indefinite amount of time, so there weren't more than twenty people in the same part of the ship as them. Considering how many people usually get into Beacon, it might've been more efficient to fit all the new students into buses. 

He sighed. "They tried to make a good first impression, and they failed."

Saul looked amused. "At least there's TV."

Dustin looked over at the flat holo screen. A few kids were gathered around it, watching a report by the Vale News Network. The purple-haired anchorwoman, Lisa Lavender, was talking about the recent trial of several Anti-Faunus Rights supporters. "Today, four of the men were declared guilty and sentenced to thirty years in prison. These men belong to a particular group believed to be associated with the growing political party known as the Society Dedicated to Humane Disciplines. However, the SDHD representative, Peri Wig, denies these allegations. Mr. Wig stated earlier today that..."

"Wow. Thirty years just for pushing some Faunus around? That's harsh," Dustin commented. 

"I hear they stabbed somebody," Saul said. "I think they put a bunch of people in the hospital too. It's no wonder the White Fang turned violent if they have to deal with people like them."

"Oh, you're a White Fang sympathizer now?" Dustin said wryly. "The White Fang are a bunch of criminals. Maybe we have to get aggressive in response to them."

"You know that's not what I meant," Saul said calmly. "And, according to the law, those men are criminals too."

Dustin glanced back out the window to give the buildings another foul look. "Whatever. All I know is that Humans and Faunus don't mix."

"Speaking of..." Saul gave him a light nudge in the ribs. 

Dustin followed his brother's gaze to a girl a little distance away who was standing off to the side of everyone else, looking uncomfortable. She was a little on the short side, and she was slight with straight brown hair that reached her hips and large brown eyes. She wore combat gear comprised of a short, long-sleeved brown jacket and brown shorts and black leggings with golden detail. She also had on a black, semi-translucent undershirt beneath the jacket, along with golden spaulders and vambraces on both arms, as well as a similar belt. On the left side of her chest was a small, black heart with stitches set on a yellow circle—her identifying personal emblem.  

The most noticeable feature about the girl, however, was her ears. Sticking up from the top of her head were furry brown ears that added at least a foot to her height. 

"Rabbit ears? Seriously?" Dustin quietly hissed. 

"Do you think they're real?" Saul whispered.

"Of course," Dustin responded. "No one would want to purposely look like a freak."

At that moment, the holo screen buzzed and flickered. All eyes turned in its direction as it was replaced with the hologram a woman. She stood straight with her hands behind her back, a posture Dustin was very familiar with. She had neat blond hair pulled back in a bun and wore glasses, a black and white outfit, and a cape with a dark purple underside. "Hello and welcome to Beacon," she said. 

"We haven't even left yet," Dustin muttered. 

"My name is Glynda Goodwitch," the woman continued. "You are among a privileged few who have received the honor of being selected to attend this prestigious academy. Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace, and as future Huntsmen and Huntresses, it is your duty to uphold it. You have demonstrated the courage needed for such a task, and now it is our turn to provide you with the knowledge and the training to protect our world." With a ringing sound, the hologram faded out. 

"I guess the other ship is already there," Saul said wistfully. 

Suddenly, with a whirring sound, the wings visible through the windows thrust gracefully downwards and the ship began to rise steadily into the air. 

Dustin grinned. "And we won't be far behind them. What do you think, Saul? Ready to learn how to fight some monsters?"

Saul slipped his hand inside his coat where  _Oracle_  hung on his belt, waiting to be used. "Oh, yeah."


	8. Plus One Friend

"Woah."

Talos stopped short barely a few steps off the landing platform, as did many of the other new students. Stretching out before them, lined with trees and lampposts draped with light blue banners, was a wide cobblestone path leading right to the great wooden doors that marked the entrance to Beacon Academy. Bisected by this main avenue was a titanic double ring of white colonnades that stood like guardians and formed magnificent arches, with the outer ring rising high over the main entrance. Water directed from the nearby rivers flowed along the feet of the arches like a beautiful diamond moat. The outer walls of the school blocked their view of the inside, but the sharp towers could be seen rising up from behind the entrance. The tallest of them all, the Vale CCT, stood in the center and had bright green lights in its tallest windows.

Feeling a sense of awe, Talos began slowly walking down the path. There wasn't anything like this back on Crate.

As he got closer to the tall, wooden doors, he noticed a large stone statue in front of the entrance. The statue showed a life size Huntsman and Huntress standing on a rock. The Huntsman had a sword raised in the air while the Huntress rested the head of a double-bladed axe on the ground. Below them, at the bottom of the rock, crouched an Ursa and a Beowolf with mouths open in angry snarls. 

Talos stopped between the sets of arches that stood on either side of the avenue to glance at the expansive engraving of the Beacon Academy emblem carved into the stone at his feet. Upon looking back up, he noticed that the rings of colonnades formed a sort of courtyard in front of the school. Running between the large and small colonnades was a pathway that encircled a pond of pink lilies and a garden of red trees. Benches were placed throughout the garden and along the avenue. 

Now realizing he had absolutely no idea where to go, he pulled out his Scroll and tried to find the information he had been sent. There it was. All first year students were supposed to head to the amphitheater upon arrival, which was the first building they would spot after going through the entrance. 

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach when he pulled up a map of the academy. Besides the amphitheater, there was Beacon Tower (containing the headmaster's office and the Cross Continental Transmit System), various lecture halls, the dorm buildings, the dining hall, the ballroom, and the library to name a few places. And they were all in separate buildings. 

Wow, this was a big school.

So Talos continued forward, and his feeling of amazement grew as he slowly pushed through the entrance. Lush green trees and colorful flower bushes dotted the school grounds and more lilies floated on the surface of several other ponds. This was his home. For the next several years, this was his home. 

Eventually he noticed a large, gray, circular building in front of him. A pair of tall, blue, rectangular lights flanked another pair of huge wooden doors. It appeared to have no roof, yet the walls were so tall he doubted that it would be overly bright on the inside. He double checked his Scroll. Yes, that was it.

And an amphitheater it was. As he strode through the doors, he saw that the entire building was indeed one glass-domed room. In front of an ornate, wooden backdrop with blue lights was a semicircular raised platform that served as a stage. Dozens of rows of raised bleachers surrounded this, and the rest of the room consisted of a large, open area for people to stand in front of the stage. This was a building meant to hold hundreds of people. 

That being said, there were barely a dozen people gathered on the floor before the stage. Eight of them were talking like they knew each other, three were together but on their Scrolls, and one was reading a book. He had heard the speech about being "among a privileged few," but there had been more kids on his ship than this. Only, they had wandered off in different directions. Had he gotten his information right?

_If you're unsure, never be afraid to ask somebody. You might even learn something_. That's what his dad always told him. Sometimes, when Talos resisted the advice, his dad would further explain that if you are unsure, then there is bound to be someone else in a similar position. If you allow someone to teach you, then you could later teach others the same thing. Talos suspected that Dad had originally learned that from Mom because of the whole "men with directions" thing, but it was still good advice. 

A quick survey of the room led him to decide that the person with the book might be his best bet...and also because she seemed the least intimidating. She was short but not slight as she had a medium build. She appeared very mature, easily looking eighteen or older, though considering that she was probably a first-year, she was younger than she looked. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a braid and a pair of dark brown tortoiseshell glasses perched on her nose. Her clothing was mostly plain as she wore a green short-sleeved t-shirt, blue jeans, and short, brown leather boots.

However, strapped overtop of her shirt was leather armor turned almost black with incomprehensible, tribal-type designs. Tucked under the belt on her waist was a thin, green cloth with similar patterns except white, and hanging from the belt was a leather sheath containing a long sword. On her belt opposite of the sword and holding the cloth in place was a pin with the emblem of a black and white mask. 

Talos glanced down at his own bronze armor that he had designed, adapted, created, adapted, and readapted and wondered what had made her decide not to go all out. Realizing that he was still standing around, he walked over to the girl. She was sitting on the ground with her back against the stage, her attention directed at a thick book in her lap. Though he never saw her glance up as he approached, there was no surprise in her movements as she looked at him when he stopped in front of her. She regarded him warily with sage-green eyes. 

"Hi," he said, feeling awkward. "Do you know if this is where the first-years are supposed to meet?"

The wariness in the girl's expression quickly faded to be replaced by a warm smile. "Yes, this is the right place," she responded kindly. She glanced at a worn watch on her left wrist. "You're a little early though. I'd say we still have twenty minutes."

He tapped his own wristband, which eagerly provided him with the time. "I thought I was on time."

"You were," she informed him, "but I heard one of the teachers say that the last transport is running late. Engine trouble. You haven't missed anything."

Now feeling sheepish for worrying, he said, "Oh, that's good to know." There was an uncomfortable pause. 

The girl brushed her bangs back, though they had not fallen in her eyes. "It's quite an impressive school, isn't it?" she said. "I still can't believe I got in."

Talos grinned, relieved that someone felt the same as him. "I know. This is just...incredible." Not liking that he had to keep looking down at her, he gestured to the floor beside her. "Do you mind if I...?"

He thought she looked pleased. "No, not at all," she said, and as he sat down, she removed her glasses and closed the book.

"I suppose you're one of my new classmates." He held out his hand. "I'm Talos."

She shook it with a surprisingly firm grip. "Rosemary."

"Ah, 'dew of the sea,'" he said before considering how cheesy it sounded.

Rosemary looked surprised. "You know the original meaning."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, my dad is a big history buff. He's into everything from decrepit ruins to extinct cultures to dead languages. I don't find it nearly as interesting, but it is fun to occasionally trick people into thinking I'm smart."

She laughed. "Well, it sounds like you're already better off than a lot of us. The History professor here at Beacon is a tough one. And he has a Ph.D."

That was somewhat intimidating. "I suppose they only hire the best. So...are you from the coast?"

She shook her head. "No, I was born in the mountains outside of Vale. I love the ocean, but I don't get to travel to it nearly enough."

Suddenly, her words, the simple style, and the strange patterns all made sense. "Oh, you're from one of the nomad communities," he said in amazement. "Probably from one of the older ones, right? That is so cool. It's no wonder you made it into Beacon. You probably have more combat experience than half of the first-years combined." 

Her cheeks flushed. "That might be an overstatement. And just because I have to fight a lot doesn't mean I'm good."

"Yeah, but I had to spend four years at Signal to get ready for the entrance exam. I bet you've never been to a combat school." When she didn't answer, he said, "I'm right, aren't I?"  

She laughed again, though this time sounding uncomfortable. "You make it sound like I've been spending my whole life fighting. It's not what you think; I'm not some great warrior. Death Stalkers and Nevermores—only the toughest, most skilled fighters in my community are allowed to go after those. I'm not one of them yet. My combat experience so far has been very limited."

"I still think it's cool. My dad would love to meet you."

"Sounds like an interesting guy," she said. "Where are you from?"

"Technically I'm from Vale, but I live on an island off the coast called Crate," he answered. "My dad's a sort of guardian of the island, so I'm training to take his place."

"Woah, that's a tough job," she remarked. "A lot of people depend on the village guardians."

"It's a small island," he said modestly. Islet was actually a better term. Crate didn't even appear on the map, but he didn't bother to tell her that. "But it's still a disaster if I mess up."  _You idiot! What are you doing? Take the compliment!_

"Well, we have four years of training at the best academy in Vale. If you're not ready after that, then you can worry."

And now he felt stupid again. And relieved. "I'm still in shock that I'm here. Did you see the view coming in?"

She grinned. "I saw it when I arrived five days ago. It was awesome."

He wasn't sure he heard her right. "Five days? You've been here five days already? How'd you pull that off?"

The grin faded to a hesitant smile. "It's kind of a long story. Short version is, I'm not from Vale, so I needed a place to stay, and Professor Ozpin was generous enough to give me a temporary room until initiation. That is, I got kicked out today."

That didn't sound right. He had done a lot of reading on the entrance process. Beacon accepted kids from all over Remnant. Not once did he see mention of the option for first-years to arrive at the school early. Still, an inside source of information...

"Then maybe you can tell me about initiation, because I'm a little confused."

The hesitant smile stayed hesitant. "I have heard a bit. What do you want to know?"

"Okay, they've already accepted our transcripts, so we're in, right? Then what's initiation? I mean, what happens if we fail it? Do we get forced to leave?"

She looked thoughtful. "I had the same question, so I asked Professor Goodwitch about it. It sounds like initiation  _is_  the entrance exam. It's our first mission, and if we can't handle it, then we aren't meant to be here. Though, according to her, there is really only one way to fail."

"What's that?" he asked warily. 

She gave him a mischievous look. "We die."

"That's comforting," he said dryly. "Do you know what the mission is?"

"No, but I know where it is." She reached into her bag and pulled out a Scroll. "I heard some of the older students talking about it. When they went through initiation, it was in the Emerald Forest." She held up the Scroll for him to see. Displayed on the screen was a map of the area around Beacon. "I looked it up in the library—which is another amazing thing about this school, by the way—and I found this." She zoomed in on a large patch of green. "The forest is just a couple of miles from here. There used to be some sort of civilization there, but the Grimm destroyed it. Look, you can still see several paths and old ruins. It sounds like it's possible to rebuild, but now they just keep the forest undeveloped to train new Huntsmen." She tapped the air above the screen. "That's where we're going."

He stared at the giant green mass. It stretched from Beacon to the mountains at the border of the other side of the kingdom. "It's huge," he said as an understatement. 

"Yeah," she agreed, sounding less thrilled than before. "At least it's trees. I can deal with trees."

"Those trees could probably hide some pretty big Grimm."

"Yeah."

"Death Stalkers and Nevermores, huh?"

"Death Stalkers and Nevermores."

He fingered  _Nichor's_  hilt and blew out a breath. Well, this would be interesting. Despite the prospect of a dangerous mission, he found himself smiling as he glanced at the girl next to him. She showed no sign that she noticed, staying focused on sorting through the data on her Scroll. There was something different about her, something he couldn't quite place. One thing was for sure though: this was someone he wouldn't mind fighting beside.


	9. Orientation

It didn't take long for the amphitheater to become packed with students, indicating the arrival of the last airship and forcing Rosemary and Talos to stand to claim their spot. The noise level had greatly increased, smothering her senses and making her want to cover her ears. She didn't like being surrounded by so many people. It made her feel like she was being crushed. In order to distract herself, Rosemary focused on her new companion when he wasn't looking. She thought him quite cute with his shy and awkward yet honest nature. That's not to say he wasn't also physically attractive. He was tall and muscular, and he had tan skin and light brown hair streaked with blond that indicated hours spent in the sun. 

What she found the most interesting about him, however, was his armor. She had never seen anything like it. It was completely metal, which was nothing new, but it was altered somehow. He wore a bronze chest plate that had a fish scale-type pattern and was embedded with multiple gears and wires of different shapes and sizes. His legs were mostly bare since he had on some type of traditional skirt made of what looked like long bronze feathers. On his hip on the right side of the skirt was a symbol of a large man with wings. His arms were mostly bare as well with the exception of the strange tracks that ran from the shoulders of his chest plate along the inside of his arms to end at his bronze wristlets. Slung over one shoulder and across his chest was a strap holding a sheath that dangled at his left hip. The sheath appeared to hold a short sword, though Rosemary couldn't be certain without actually seeing the weapon. 

"Hey, did you make that armor yourself?" she asked curiously.    

Talos looked down at her with his sea-green eyes. It was not a rude gesture; it was just that he was so tall and she was so short. "Hm?" he hummed distractedly. It took a few moments for the rest of his attention to fall on her and her words. She understood the feeling. Her brain was on data overload as well. "Oh. Oh, yeah, of course," he said finally. "My dad helped me a bit, but I did most of the design and forge work myself." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Which is probably the reason it took a few tries."

"Yeah, it took me a few tries to get my armor right too," she said conversationally, "even if I did have some help from my mom. But it's only a simple design. Yours looks a lot more complicated."  _Way to go. Kiss up as usual_ , she mentally scolded herself. She wished he would act more comfortable though. It was hard to hold a conversation when she was used to being the awkward one. 

Her efforts were somewhat rewarded. Although he kept up the modest attitude, he failed to completely hide his pleased expression. "Not really. It's not more complicated than your average gun."

Her eyes widened. "It has another function?"

He chuckled and gestured at the gears and wires. "Well, all this isn't just for show."   

She lightly blushed, feeling foolish. "I'm not really good with that kind of stuff. And I've certainly never made a gun. Mechanical things are usually beyond me."   

"What about that?" He nodded his head at the sword hanging at her side.    

Rosemary shook her head. " _Ebur_  is just a sword. Not even made of metal." She pulled the weapon a little way out of the sheath, just enough to reveal a portion of the gleaming white blade.    

Talos gave a low whistle. "Don't tell me your mom helped you make that?"   

She couldn't help but grin. "No, but my mentor did. Apparently he had a Goliath tusk that he had been carrying around for years. He let me use it to make  _Ebur_  here." York had taught her how to cut the ivory without breaking it and how to embed Dust in its heart. He had probably helped her with the blade more than he should have, but he would have killed her had she ruined one of the tribe's most ancient and important artifacts. Now as for the Dust compartment in the handle, he let her mess that up as much she pleased.    

"Oh man," he said, "that is one awesome example of the classics." He revealed a sliver of his own sword, which was made of a shinier bronze than his aesthetically dulled armor. "I always go overboard with the mechanics when I forge equipment,  _Nichor_  included. I love machines." He did a little theatrical twirl of his hand as if he was going to bow, though the throng of people around them had grown too thick. "You may now deem me a nerd," he said dramatically, surprising her with the abrupt disappearance of awkwardness.    

She decided to test him. "You, a fellow nerd?" she said with mock derision. "I'm afraid you're going to have to convince me."   

He grinned, no trace of the uncertainty he had previously been demonstrating. "I know this isn't for decoration," he said, tapping the deceivingly small piece of black wood strapped to her left forearm. "I'd say shield, but it's clear a few extra adjustments have been made. A likely explanation would be that it's also a weapon—hm, but you said no guns. But even if it's not a gun, it probably still has some range to it..." He paused for no more than a heartbeat before looking uncharacteristically smug. "My final answer is a crossbow shield."   

She was rendered practically speechless. "How...? What...?" There was no way he had gotten that just by looking at the shield in its collapsed form. It had to be some sort of trick. He had to have seen it somehow. Only, she hadn't used any of her weapons since the fight in the alley.    

Talos, to his credit, was trying his best to look modest. "I don't believe you've introduced us."   

She laughed and shook her head in disbelief. "The shield is  _Ebenos_. The crossbow is  _Eben_. That...that was impressive."    

Feeling a little unsettled, she found herself unconsciously tracing a hand across her stomach. How differently her fight would have turned out had she been able to properly assess her opponents' weapons. She looked at Talos with a new respect. This was someone who would make a useful teammate.   

He opened his mouth to say something, but was abruptly cut off by the sound of a voice booming through a speaker.    

"I'll keep this brief."   

Silence fell over the amphitheater as all heads turned in the direction of the stage. Professor Ozpin stood in the front and center, a microphone stand before him. As usual, his left hand rested on his cane, and his messy hair came just short of getting in his eyes. Though he wasn't standing nearly as stiff as Professor Goodwitch was behind him, something still seemed strange about his posture.    

He continued speaking, his voice not necessarily a monotone, but his tone unidentifiable nonetheless. "You have traveled here today in search of knowledge—to hone your craft and acquire new skills. And when you are finished, you plan to dedicate your life to the protection of the people. But I look amongst you, and all I see is wasted energy. In need of purpose...direction. You assume knowledge will free you of this, but your time at this school will prove that knowledge can only carry you so far. It is up to you to take the first step." Without another word, he walked off the stage.    

Talos looked at Rosemary with a bewildered expression, one she was sure she mirrored. Neither had the chance to make a comment, however, before Goodwitch approached the mic.    

"You will gather in the ballroom tonight," the professor informed them, her soft voice ringing out through the room. "Tomorrow your initiation begins. Be ready. You are dismissed."    

_She's never one to beat around the bush_ , Rosemary thought as the woman also left. Noise filled the amphitheater once more, though the atmosphere was much more subdued than before.    

"Knowledge can only carry us so far?" Talos questioned, likely voicing his thoughts aloud. "Then how are we supposed to know what to do?"   

Rosemary glanced down at the new Scroll the school had provided for her. It contained information she had spent hours gathering in the library over the past few days—information about the school, about initiation, about Huntsmen. She had learned a lot, but she still knew nothing. She didn't even know what she was doing here. Why hadn't she stayed home? York hadn't forced her to leave; she could have easily convinced him that she was better off with the tribe. All her friends and family were there. It was safer, more certain. But it wouldn't have felt right.    

That still didn't make the separation any easier. 

She quietly sighed. "We wing it I suppose. I don't know. I guess we'll figure it out tomorrow."   

"Right. Wing it," he murmured still mostly to himself. "The real world. No books."   

"No books," she agreed with only a halfhearted attempt at being chipper. Even though it was still early in the day, her energy was nearly drained. The noise and the people—all the new sights, smells, and sounds—were pressing in. It was becoming way too much. She wanted to escape—to get outside and stretch her wings. With the wind in her feathers, she could feel weightless and free. Only, she couldn't do that, not here.    

Talos gazed at her in concern. "Hey, are you alright? You've gone pale."   

She tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "Uh, yeah, no. I've had a bit of a rough week. I think I'm going to wander the grounds for a while. Clear my head."

He seemed disappointed, but he didn't ask to accompany her. "Okay. Catch you later?"   

"Catch you later," she confirmed. With a brief wave, she turned around and slipped into the current of students leaving the building.    

It was a huge relief to return to direct sunlight. Breaking away from the crowd, she walked away from the amphitheater and the school wall in search of a more secluded area of trees and flower bushes. A rejuvenating breeze blew on her face, waking her up a little. She might've not been able to fly, but that couldn't stop her from enjoying the wind.


	10. Dining With Animals

"Okay, I'll hand it to them," Dustin said, looking around at all the great stone buildings and arches, "this place is pretty cool."

Saul was craning his neck so much that Dustin was almost afraid he was going to hurt himself. "It's like a city," Saul said excitedly. He pointed at a nearby building with large windows and thick columns. It looked like a dining hall. "Look at that architecture. I can't even begin to guess how long that took to build, much less design. And did you see that statue when we arrived? It's perfectly—"

Dustin interrupted him. "Yeah, that's great, and you can finish telling me about it inside. Right now I'm hungry."

Saul seemed unperturbed, and his head remained on a swivel as he distractedly followed Dustin into the building. As they went through the doors, they found themselves in a long, cloister-like hall, the Beacon crossed-ax symbol marking the walls. A line of tall windows broken by columns formed the long sides of the building, and a great gray stone arch spanned the room at each short end. Four rows of wooden picnic-style tables spanned the length of the hall and covered the entire room, more than half of them filled with students.

Dustin laughed as Saul's eyes widened, and he had to give his brother a light punch in the shoulder to keep him moving. "C'mon, the buffet is at the opposite end. I see vending machines too. We can get some sodas."

Saul smiled sheepishly as they began to cross the room. Art, architecture, music, literature, even medicine—he was fascinated by it all, and he could talk about it at great length. Once Saul got started talking about something that interested him, he could drone on for hours, which is why Dustin wanted to be sitting down at a table with food before he let his brother open his mouth.

Under the pointed arch at the opposite end of the room was a line of tables containing a feast fit for a king. There was everything from whole turkeys and watermelons to large fillets of fish to sword-sized baguettes and leeks. And it smelled amazing. 

_They make it way too easy_ , Dustin thought as he grabbed a plastic tray and got in the line in front of the buffet. "Hey, Saul," he said, lowering his voice mischievously. "You know what else this place is good for? Food fights."

Saul looked around in alarm, although Dustin had not spoken loud enough for anyone else to hear. "Are you insane?" he hissed. "You do something like that here and you'll get us both kicked out."

"Maybe, maybe not," Dustin said nonchalantly. "Still on my bucket list."

"The food fight or getting kicked out?" Saul asked uncertainly. 

"Both," Dustin responded after considering it for a moment. "How do you think Mother and Father would react if I got kicked out of a 'prestigious academy' such as Beacon?"

"They'd disinherit you," Saul deadpanned. "And probably me too. Then the estate would go to Caroline."

"Now that doesn't sound so bad. You and I would become free men, and Caroline would get something she deserves. Hey, just a few adjustments to our tailcoats and we could be pirates!"

Saul was quick to steer him in a different direction. "Alright, changing topic before you say anything else stupid. What did you think of Professor Ozpin's speech? That was...different."

Dustin, half-focused on filling up his tray, didn't answer right away, and it wasn't until they reached the end of the buffet that he finally spoke. "I liked it," he declared. "Sounds like this school is going to get straight to the point. Forget classrooms. There is no better teacher than the personal experience of slicing a monster's head clean off."

"Clean off? You have a hammer-rifle."

Dustin waved a hand dismissively. "You get my point."

"Yeah, I do, and I agree. I don't think that was  _the_  point, but I agree."

"Good."

Facing the rest of the hall, Dustin began to peer around the room in search of an empty table. Suddenly he stiffened, just now paying attention to the people inside. He noticed Saul narrow his eyes at about the same time, no doubt also seeing the furry ears, tails, horns, and antlers that were scattered from table to table.  _Faunus_. 

"There aren't as many as it looks," Saul said quickly. "Only about five percent."

"Still too many for my taste," Dustin growled. 

Why did people insist on putting both species together? Why did people never learn? He had learned. He had learned time and time again what happens when you let those animals merge with Humans. It was simple enough: Humans and Faunus don't mix. 

Otherwise someone always ends up getting hurt.


	11. Sleepover

Rosemary adjusted her sleeping bag for the third time, once again trying to find some way to make it thicker. So far it had offered no padding between her and the hard ballroom floor, and she knew her hips and back would suffer for it. Normally in cases like this, it was easier for a person to lie flat, but that obviously didn't apply in her case. She'd take a sore back from sleeping on her side over crushed wings from sleeping on her back any day. Actually, she'd rather have neither, but as she tested her makeshift bed once more it was apparent that also wasn't likely to be the case. 

_The forest floor is softer than this_ , she grumbled internally.  _A tree branch might even be softer than this._

With a quiet sigh, she sat up and leaned against the wall, letting her eyes drift over the room. Compared to other buildings in the school, such as the amphitheater and the dining hall, the ballroom was relatively small, though with an emphasis on  _relatively_. Because of its lack of furniture, it could still probably hold at least a hundred people. At the moment, a quick count of the sleeping bags spread out over the floor revealed that there weren't nearly as many new students as that. 

The sun had gone down long ago, and the moonlight shone faintly through where the thick, red drapes had been pulled back from the large, square windows. Candles in sconces along the walls and in golden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling provided a dim, orange light that reflected off of the smooth green and black floor in a romantic sort of way. There was additional light for those that desired it at one end of the room where red curtains had been pulled back from a small stage. In contrast, a gently curving staircase led to a dark, balustrade-lined second floor and, as Rosemary had discovered on an earlier expedition, a moonlit balcony. Now that the students had been at Beacon for a good number of hours, it was clear the initial excitement was wearing off as there was a lot less movement and activity than before. That's not to say there still wasn't an air of excitement and anticipation. Only a few of the sleeping bags lay still. Most other people sat quietly talking or moved about as they performed whatever pre-sleep ritual they required to relax. Others still searched for a comfortable spot. 

Rosemary was glad she arrived early enough to claim a spot of her choosing, and she was even more glad she had picked one against the wall where she was away from the thick of sleeping bags. There seemed to be more people and activity near the center of the room, and she was just fine away from it all. It confused her how some people could be drawn to the chaos they called socializing.   
A muffled shout drew her gaze to a group of boys across the room. One boy was attempting to playfully smother another with a pillow while the rest were doing their best to laugh quietly. A couple of girls giggled as they watched. 

_Coed_ , Rosemary noted.  _This school is progressive. Though if they're not quieter, then I won't be able to sleep_. She at least hoped that meant the boys at Beacon would be like the boys in her tribe. When both genders were used to working with each other, it made things so much easier. If that wasn't the case...well, it wouldn't be the first time she'd had to deal with a boy attempting to cross the line; it had happened once or twice at some of the towns the tribe had stopped at. She had been told that she can apparently put someone in his place very quickly, though Luna might've been exaggerating. Then again, Luna was the expert at bringing people down a few levels. 

Rosemary pulled her knees closer to her chest. She hadn't seen Luna or Acer in over two weeks, and she hadn't seen her family in even longer. This was the longest she had been away from her tribe, the people she had known since she was little. She was used to moving from place to place, waking up with a new view every morning, but she had always been with her tribe, her companions, her home. She wasn't home, and the separation hurt like a smoldering ache. 

But she was home. This was her new home. 

"Sorry. No room." 

Something in the tone of a nearby voice caught her attention, and she found herself looking at two people not far to her left. One, a raven-haired girl who Rosemary was fairly certain was the speaker, sat on a sleeping bag. The other, with sleeping bag slung over one shoulder and pillow in hand, remained standing. For a moment, Rosemary was confused; there was plenty of room over there. Then she bristled. It took only one glance to know what was going on, and it was wrong. 

The girl that was standing had straight brown hair and large brown eyes. And she was a rabbit Faunus. Her long brown ears, which had initially been straight, drooped slightly in response to the raven-haired girl's claim, but she replied with a calm, "Oh. Okay then."

However, as the rabbit-girl continued through the room in search of a spot, she either received more mutters of "No room" or the subtle (or not so subtle) placement of hand, foot, or personal item in a previously empty space. Somehow the spacious ballroom became magically crowded, and with each rejection the girl's ears drooped further. 

"Freak!" one kid spat. Ears limp and face red, the girl bit her lip and looked around, at an apparent loss for what to do. 

Rosemary couldn't take it any longer. "Hey," she called softly, just loud enough for a Faunus to hear. 

The girl's ears perked up in response to the sound, and her brown eyes quickly found Rosemary in the dim light. The rabbit Faunus gave her a wary look. 

Rosemary pointed to the ground next to her. "There's room over here."

The girl's ears straightened further, and her face showed surprise, though it was quickly replaced by suspicion. After a moment of brief hesitation, she made her way over towards the wall, and when Rosemary made no move to stop her, she laid her sleeping bag down with a sigh of relief. 

"Thank you," she murmured, her cheeks still flushed. 

"No problem," Rosemary said. "You'd think they'd never seen a Faunus before." It was a poor attempt at a joke, but what was a person supposed to say after that?

The girl sat down, her ears drooping tiredly. "I'd thought it would be better here," she said quietly. 

_So had I_ , Rosemary thought. This was very disappointing. Wasn't this school supposed to be diverse? Did most other Faunus have to live with this? Despite these thoughts, she said, "They'll get over it. Beacon has a number of Faunus already."

The girl blinked in surprise. " _They'll_  get over it?"

Rosemary shrugged. "Well, yeah. You're obviously not the one with the problem."

The girl just stared at her, clearly dumbfounded. It took a few seconds for her to find the voice to speak. "I...I don't think anyone has said something like that to me before. And certainly not a Human."

_Who says I'm Human?_ is what Rosemary wanted to say, though she figured that would defeat the point she was trying to make. Instead she said, "I just don't see a difference."

One of the girl's ears went crooked as she cocked her head to the side. When she seemed to realize that Rosemary was being sincere, she said hesitantly, "I...I'm Velvet."

Rosemary gave her a friendly smile. "Rosemary."

"Hey." Both Faunus were startled by the appearance of another girl next to them. The newcomer was fashion model thin beneath her designer pajamas, and she had flawless skin and sharp, dark-brown eyes. Her short, professionally-styled hair was also dark-brown with wavy locks along the right side of her face, dyed with a gradient that transitioned from dark-brown to caramel. She eyed the two girls appraisingly, one perfectly manicured hand placed on her hip, the other holding a sleeping bag. "You have room for one more?"

Rosemary exchanged a glance with Velvet, revealing that the rabbit-girl was just as confused as she was. "Uh, yeah, sure."

"Thanks," fashion model girl said, placing her sleeping bag on the other side of Velvet. Once she had laid it out and sat down, she said, "I'm Coco."

The two girls returned the greeting. Rosemary suddenly felt very shabby in her baggy purple shirt and worn pair of floral purple and green pants and then felt surprised for feeling that way. She noticed several glances in her direction from others kids across the room. No, not her direction—Coco's direction. Rosemary first looked at Velvet and then at Coco, discovering that the latter was looking back. Coco studied her quite unabashedly, and when she realized Rosemary was watching, her lips pulled into a smirk. Rosemary's instincts told her to look away—to submit, but she forced herself to stare back. She was quite familiar with the alpha role; Felix attempted to occupy it from time to time, which is why she knew that if she let someone hold power over her, then she'd regret it later. 

"So you're the lone wolf," Coco noted. 

"So you're the popular girl," Rosemary responded coolly. The girl hadn't come over to make friends; she had come over to make a statement—and an interesting one at that. 

Velvet looked back and forth between them, looking uncertain about her position in the middle. 

Coco abruptly laughed. "Ooh, not afraid to hold your own. I like that."

Rosemary grinned. "And you're someone who doesn't give a damn, as my dad would say. You have my respect."

"Oh, is it worth anything?"

"Is yours?" Rosemary countered. 

Coco laughed again. "I think we are going to get along just fine." She turned to Velvet. "Hm? What's that look?"

Velvet's ears perked up in an alert way. She looked afraid to answer. "I just...wouldn't have expected someone like you to come over here."

"Someone like me?" Coco echoed, putting her hands on her hips. "Are you judging me, Faunus?"

Velvet's eyes widened. "No, no, I didn't mean—"

Coco cut her off. "Good, because I'll tell you why I'm here. I came over here because apparently there is no room anywhere else, which has absolutely nothing to do with who or what anybody is. Got it?"

Velvet went speechless for a moment. Then she smiled. "Got it."

Rosemary found herself smiling as well. Some of the kids at this school weren't half-bad. Maybe she could make friends here after all. Though in order to do that she needed to survive initiation, and that would be impossible if she didn't get any sleep. With a sigh, she stretched out her legs, preparing to climb into her sleeping bag.

"Ooh, is that a tattoo?" Coco asked, her attention directed at Rosemary. With a look of curiosity, Velvet shifted to face her as well.

_So close_ , Rosemary thought tiredly. She crossed her legs, placing her right over her left, and tugged the right leg of her pants up a bit to uncover her ankle. A ring of black triangles encircled her skin in the form of a permanent anklet. "Yeah," she said indifferently, trying not to sound too proud of herself. She had only gotten it a couple of months ago as a sort of coming-of-age ceremony.

"That is awesome," Coco said. "You have more guts than I thought."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Rosemary responded with mock indignation. "It's not that big of a deal. It didn't even take that long." Though, at the time, it had been the longest three hours of her life, and little had she known what the future would bring. Still, it had been completely worth it.

"If I said that to my parents," Velvet remarked, "they'd probably disagree and then lock me in my room for the rest of my life."

"I meant it's not a big deal where I come from," Rosemary amended. "Actually, that's not true. I mean that getting a tattoo isn't an act of rebellion or bravado; it's symbolic." She traced her finger along her ankle. "These Grimm teeth stand for protection. And this—" She pulled the collar of shirt down low enough to show the skin over her heart, revealing the abstract silhouette of a bird in flight. It was her newest addition, done two months ahead of time in marking the occasion of her leaving. "This represents guidance and the strength to go on in spite of darkness. Each smaller symbol that makes it up adds to the meaning."

Coco nodded approvingly. "That's badass, girl."

"Didn't it hurt?" Velvet asked. 

"It wasn't too bad," Rosemary said truthfully. "No worse than getting scratched with a fingernail." Repeatedly. For several hours. 

Velvet seemed awed. "That is beautiful. What kind of bird is that?"

Rosemary gently brushed the wings of the bird with her thumb. "It's an owl, the symbol of the legendary warrior Tyto. She's kind of like a patron saint. Some say she was a goddess, but that's probably just a myth. I like to think that she was an ordinary person like the rest of us who just managed to do something special." At least, it was easier to think that. How did one follow in the footsteps of a god?

"So," Coco began slowly, "do they have any special properties?"

Rosemary grinned. "Of course. The ink might be symbolic, but the Dust imbedded in them certainly isn't. Both can react with my Aura if I ever need a little help." The tattoos had been done in a way that she could activate them for short bursts of energy. The ankle tattoo reenforced her defense while the one near her collar replenished her strength. The effects were short-lived, but they certainly helped in a pinch. They're probably what helped keep her alive in that alley. 

Coco also grinned. "Now we're talking."

Velvet abruptly yawned between them, and across the room it was noticeably more quiet than before. There was little to no movement and only the occasional whisper, indicating that most of the other kids had settled down. There was even gentle snoring coming from the area where the boys had been roughhousing earlier. It was definitely time for bed. 

"As much as I'm enjoying this," Rosemary said politely, "I would prefer to be awake for initiation tomorrow. So, I'm out."

Coco gave her a thumbs up. "Sounds good."

"'Night," Velvet murmured, already sinking into her sleeping bag.

Rosemary uncrossed her legs and slipped into her own bag, curling up on her side. One day was over, but this was just the beginning. The beginning of what, she didn't know, but one thing was certain: after tomorrow everything would be different. She just didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

 

Hours later, sleep refused to come. The room was too quiet. Every little sound—every breath, every shift in a sleeping bag—was suddenly amplified. The ground was too hard. Every time she shifted to find a more comfortable position something else became sore. Above all, everything was too different. There was no familiarity, no sense of comfort. In a room filled with people, she felt alone, and that made it very hard to fall asleep.

She rolled partway onto her stomach, placed her nose against her pillow, and sank farther into her sleeping bag, trying to block out the other noises and scents with the only things in the room she could identify as being her own. She needed to rest. She needed the strength to deal with tomorrow. What if she didn't fall asleep? What if she was too tired to go through initiation? What if she failed? Then what? Where would she go?

Her heart began to race, and she made attempts to slow her breathing. This was the opposite of settling down. She breathed in the familiar scents on her pillow again, but found that she was too hot in her current position. She removed her face from the pillow and pushed the majority of the sleeping bag off her. She tried shifting her position again by rolling onto her left side, but it didn't help; she was still wide awake and uncomfortable.

She opened her eyes. Velvet lay facing her, her eyes closed and her ears limp. On the other side of Velvet, Coco lay on her back, and she would've seemed asleep had her dark eyes not been staring distantly at the ceiling. 

_Well, at least one of us can sleep_ , Rosemary thought. Then she noticed that Velvet was moving, her body subtly shaking as if from cold. Her breathing was unnaturally even, the kind of evenness that came from trying to control it. From trying to keep calm. It seemed that no one remained unaffected by this night.

Rosemary closed her eyes and let her hand fall limply away from her, brushing against something warm. The pattern of Velvet's breathing changed, interrupted by a small gasp before seeming to go almost silent. Then timid fingers intertwined with Rosemary's. Rosemary responded with a gentle squeeze, prompting Velvet's fingers to tighten. There was the sound of a sleeping bag rustling, and Rosemary opened her eyes again to see that Velvet had rolled on her back. The rabbit Faunus held out her opposite hand to Coco. For a moment, there was no reaction. Then, closing her eyes, Coco accepted the hand without a sound.

There were some things that couldn't be put into words, and sometimes the little things were enough.


	12. Everybody's A Cryptic

Talos found Rosemary in the dining hall the next day. The girl sat at a mostly empty table and seemed to be spending more time pushing her food around her plate than actually eating it. The girl next to her—a Faunus—had pushed her own tray away, the food untouched.

"Let me guess," he said by way of greeting, "you didn't sleep well last night."   

She looked at him tiredly, dark circles lining her eyes. "If at all," she mumbled. "You?"   

"Nope." He set his tray down and sat down opposite of her. With robotic motions, he began to cut into his pancakes, feeling like he was running on autopilot.   

Rosemary looked at him with a grimace. "How can you feel like eating?"   

"I don't," he responded honestly, "but I need energy. And so do you."   

She groaned, "I know. I'm trying." She gestured at the Faunus. "Velvet's apparently trying to get through the day on only adrenaline. Oh, Velvet, this is Talos. Talos, Velvet."   

The rabbit-girl gave him a weak smile, and he responded with a small wave.    

"I think we're all going to have to run on adrenaline," he said.    

"And we're going to crash so hard when this is over," Rosemary added.    

"Just think about the 'over' part," he encouraged. "Once we get through this, we'll be official Huntsmen-in-training."   

"I don't think 'over' is the right word for it," Velvet remarked. "First classes start tomorrow. That will be day one. This is day zero."   

"What? No break?" he asked despairingly.    

"The year hasn't even started yet. What were you expecting?" Velvet said, using the kind of bluntness that came with lack of sleep.    

"I don't know," he moaned. "Not feeling like a broken windup toy?"   

"We won't have to get up early," Rosemary assured him. "Besides, things will look different once we fall into routine."   

He gave her a wary look. "Please define early, nomad."   

"Well, look what the cat dragged in!"   

Talos glanced next to him to see that another girl had approached the table, and he nearly choked on his food at the sight of her. Everything from the girl's height (easily clearing six feet) to her posture (queen of the world) to her clothing (designer) screamed money and power. A dark-brown beret covered dark-brown hair streaked with caramel, and black, wire-rimmed aviator sunglasses sat confidently on the nose of her flawless face. She wore a long, cocoa-colored shirt with a dark-brown waist cincher and long, dark-brown trousers. Hanging loosely at an angle on her hips and lined with impressively high caliber bullets was a cocoa-colored belt with a golden crosshairs buckle. Covering her hands were black fingerless gloves, while covering her feet were dark-brown, high-heeled leather boots that looked capable of shattering a Beowolf's kneecap. She also donned a number of accessories, including a bracelet with black roses and multiple black necklaces.    

This was a girl that could bring an Ursa to its knees.    

She put her hands on her hips. "What's with the long faces? You guys should be excited!" She gestured widely. "We are at Beacon Academy getting ready to go on our first mission. This should be fun."   

"Fun?" Talos echoed. "We could very well die!"   

The girl gave him a stern look. "The only thing you are going to die from is stress if you don't relax. This is going to be our job, so you might as well learn to enjoy it. If you can't handle it, then maybe you don't deserve to be here."    

_Ouch_ , Talos thought numbly.    

Rosemary sat up a little straighter. "She's right."    

Velvet nodded in agreement.    

Looking satisfied, the girl slid into the seat next to him. Feeling very unsettled by her presence, he asked, "Uh, I'm sorry, but who are you?"   

She grinned, clearly very aware of his awkwardness and enjoying every bit of it. "Coco Adel. And you are?"   

"Talos...Brindisi," he stuttered.     

_Smooth_ , Rosemary mouthed, her eyes sparkling mischievously. It was an extreme effort for him not to blush.    

"Well, Talos," Coco said, lowering her glasses to look him in the eyes, "I'll tell you something. What happens at initiation, stays at initiation." She then directed her gaze at Rosemary and Velvet. "Right?" It was less of a question, and more of a subtle demand for confirmation.    

Rosemary and Velvet exchanged a glance, the latter of whom looked uncertain. Talos would've been more curious as to what was going on had he been less concerned with how much his ears were burning.    

"Of course," Rosemary responded cheerfully. "For example, if Talos were to be swallowed by a King Taijitu, then he would definitely have to stay at initiation!"    

"Hey!" he protested.    

Velvet giggled. Coco looked relieved.    

_I'm outnumbered by girls_ , he groaned inwardly.  _How was I supposed to be prepared for this?_    

"But hey," Velvet said, "whatever happens, we don't have to go it alone. We'll have our teammates."   

"Oh, yeah. I had heard something about that," Coco remarked. "Do you guys know what it's all about?"   

He looked at the nomad girl in front of him. "Rosemary, you're our inside source. Can you tell us anything?"   

Rosemary shrugged apologetically. "Not much. I know that the students here are divided into teams of four, and that you're supposed to live and work with your teammates for as long as you're at Beacon. I think initiation determines the teams in some way, but I never learned much beyond that."   

The table fell silent. Nobody spoke, but it was clear what everybody was thinking. How much of a choice were they given with regard to the makeup of the teams? And, if possible, who would they pick as a teammate from a school full of strangers? They exchanged guarded glances. Were the people at this table even trustworthy?   

"Well," Talos said, "I guess we'll find out."

 

"Let me get this straight. You have a tattoo?"   

Rosemary ducked her head shyly. "Er...two actually."   

Talos stared at the small nomad girl in disbelief. "And they're real? Dust and everything?"   

She gave him a funny look. "Yes."    

"But...isn't it supposed to hurt?"    

He was rewarded with a raised eyebrow. "Uh, yeah. That's kind of the point." She spread her palms. "Why is this so hard for your culture to believe? Yes, where I come from, there are no restrictions on getting tattoos. My mentor has tattoos. My best friend has a tattoo. Even my mom has a tattoo. Is that really so uncommon here?"   

"No, it's not that it's uncommon. It's just that I wouldn't have expected someone like—" He quickly broke off.   

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you going to finish that sentence?" she asked with a hint of a warning. 

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "No, I'm just going to take my foot out of my mouth."  _Or stop talking entirely before I say something else stupid. Don't offend a potential teammate._    

The certainty of his own thoughts surprised him enough that he decided to test the notion. Did he really want Rosemary on his team? The girl seemed capable and intelligent, but she hardly looked the fierce warrior type. Could he depend on her in a fight?    

"I'll have you know that I have a relatively high pain tolerance," she said, though her tone was light. She had already forgiven him.      

_Well, she's not weak, I'll give her that_. "Of course," he said. "Most girls do. It's what they're built for."   

"That is not even remotely—" she began, but broke off at the sight of his face. Her nose wrinkled in mock disgust. "Oh, you think that's funny do you?"   

He chuckled and turned to his locker, typing the code to open it into the keypad. With a hiss, the door popped open, revealing  _Nichor_  hanging on a hook and containers of extra grenades and Dust sitting on the floor. Grabbing the sword, he slipped the strap over his shoulder and shut the door.    

The locker itself had a flat base and a cone-shaped top. According to Professor Goodwitch, all lockers were rocket-propelled and could be sent to a specific location based on a six-digit code. Talos glanced around the locker room.  _Man, I'd hate to get shoved in a locker around here._    

It was probably the fanciest locker room he had ever been in. Besides containing the usual (or not so usual) rows of lockers and wooden benches, the walls of the room were decorated with various weapons, including swords, axes, and spears, as well as large blue banners marked with the symbol of Beacon.  _Signal's got nothing on this_.    

Rosemary shifted her weight from foot to foot, once again getting the appearance of being on edge. In her simple armor, she stood out amongst the fancy walls of Beacon Academy. How had someone like her gotten into a combat school such as this? It definitely wasn't wealth or status, so it had to have been skill. And a lot of it. Nomads didn't lead cushy lives; he knew that much.    

He decided to try asking her. "Do you mind if I—"   

"Miss Eule."   

Before he could even register that someone had spoken, Rosemary had already spun to face the direction of the new voice. Startled, he glanced up to see Professor Goodwitch standing a little distance away. As usual, she stood straight with her hands behind her back, her stern face unreadable.    

The teacher directed her gaze at Rosemary. "A word please."   

Looking uncertain, Rosemary followed Goodwitch off to the side. Talos watched them with concern, though their voices were too low for him to hear what they were saying.   

"Will you look at that," came a voice to Talos's left. He turned to see two boys about his age, one with short, dark-brown hair, the other with longish, blond hair. The one with brown hair continued with a displeased glance at Rosemary, "The teacher already has a pet."   

Talos stiffened. Speaking of wealth and status, these two certainly had it. The boys were similar in their classy and formal outfits, their stiff postures, and their sharp features. Both wore matching steel-gray shirts, gray-brown pants, and tailcoats, though there were variations between them. The coat of the one who had spoken was dark blue, and there was a shoulder pad made of some sort of dull brown metal and decorated with the symbol of a horse and lighting bolts on his right shoulder. Dark brown gloves extended to the boy's elbows, and brown dress shoes covered his feet. Around his hips was a brown belt with a bronze buckle, and Talos caught a glimpse of a gun holstered just inside the coat.    

The blond-haired boy, on the other hand, had a scarlet tailcoat and a gold shoulder pad with the symbol of a chariot overtop of a sun. He wore no gloves, and his belt and dress shoes were more tan in color. There was also a gold buckle on his belt instead of a bronze one, and he had a short stick clipped on his belt just inside his coat—a collapsible staff.    

Talos noticed that the boys were also similar in height and eye color, though the blond-haired boy's eyes were a lighter, more reddish shade of brown. They had to have been brothers, maybe even fraternal twins. It was the likely explanation, considering that most first-year students were seventeen years old.   

He felt very uneasy in their presence, and not the same kind of uneasiness he had felt around Coco. These looked like the kind of people that lived on wielding power over others and were not afraid of who they ran over to get what they want.     

The brown-haired boy turned his dark brown eyes on Talos and frowned. "Do you have something to say?" he asked.    

Caught off guard, Talos almost didn't answer. "That hardly seems like a fair assessment, don't you think?" he responded once he was sure he could keep his voice from cracking.    

The boy raised an eyebrow. "Fair? A teacher just took the time to track down a student in the locker room. Seeing as she's not here to deliver bad news, I would say that she's showing preference for  _somebody_."   

Talos looked back over at Rosemary and Goodwitch. Though he couldn't see the professor's face from where he stood, he could see that Rosemary had noticeably relaxed and was once again smiling. He shook his head. "Professor Goodwitch is our combat instructor. And in charge of orientation. And us. It's not that hard for her to just walk in here," he argued, quickly feeling less sure of himself.    

The boy shrugged. "Whatever you say," he said nonchalantly, clearly very sure of himself. His companion stayed quiet.    

Seemingly untroubled, both boys turned back to their respective lockers. Talos, in the meantime, felt rubbed the wrong way. He'd had an argument; he'd had a defense, and then he'd just...lost. In five seconds, he'd had a fight and lost. His unsettled feeling increased.   

He returned to double-checking his ammo. Some people were simply born obnoxious. There was nothing he could do except ignore it.    

Rosemary walked back over a few minutes later, looking unconcerned.    

"What was that about?" he asked, gesturing at the back of the disappearing teacher.    

Rosemary's lips twitched. "Apparently I have the ability to completely defeat the purpose of initiation," she said with some amusement, "so I have to follow additional rules. Maybe the only rules."   

"The ability to completely defeat..." he echoed dumbly. "You mean...your Semblance?"   

"Something like that," she said vaguely. "I need to get ready before we leave, so I'll see you at the forest." With a wave, she walked off before he could get the chance to question her more. 

_Something like that? What the heck was that supposed to mean?_    

He stared at his locker door, contemplating banging his head into it. Like his dad would always say, everybody's a cryptic, and there are some people you just don't get on the bad side of. No matter how...unique their personality.


	13. Reservations And Complications

"Miss Eule. A word please."

The girl turned away from the bronze-armored boy—Talos Brindisi, if Glynda wasn't mistaken—with whom she had been so animatedly talking moments before. Rosemary looked startled, maybe even borderline alarmed, and warily followed Glynda to the other side of the room, which was currently unoccupied. Glynda might've thought that the girl had done something wrong had she not gotten the chance to watch her over the past week. The small nomad was more meek than she had first gathered and had displayed little of the backbone she had shown when they first met. These last few days the girl had kept to herself, whether it was closed up in her room, curled up in the corner of the library, or wandering around the grounds. Glynda had never seen her with another person until yesterday, with perhaps the exception of Ozpin or Bartholomew. The girl had shyly asked her the occasional question, though it had clearly been with much uncertainty and courage. 

_Clearly the nomads are better at working and fighting than actually dealing with other people_ , Glynda thought. Why was it that they stayed separate? She made the decision to see Barty in her spare time; a refresher course in history was probably necessary, especially with recent developments.

Rosemary shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and her eyes repeatedly lowered to the ground. Her lips subtly parted as if she was going to say something, but she closed them again and quietly waited for Glynda to speak. 

"I needed to catch you before..." Glynda began, but the words disappeared with a surge of concern. With a withdrawn posture, the girl was struggling more than usual to hold eye contact, and her skin had an unusual pallor. Her injury?  "Are you alright? You look pale."

Rosemary gave a vague smile that hinted at something more than just politeness. "I'm fine. Just didn't get much sleep."

Glynda crossed her arms. "If you are not feeling up to this, then you need to tell me now. I will not be allowed to rescue you if something happens after the exam begins." This was, of course, only partially true. Though all students were told at the start of initiation that the teachers could not intervene, the staff at Beacon would never willingly let a student die on their watch. Nevertheless, any student that needed to be rescued would automatically fail the entrance exam and would be expelled from Beacon before the first class began. 

The intelligent spark in Rosemary's eyes indicated that she could read between the lines anyhow, and the stubborn set to her jaw spoke her opinion clearly for her: failure was not an option. Glynda mentally noted the sudden flicker of fire. It could become a powerful aid if she directed it the right way. 

"No, it's not that. I mean, considering that I got stabbed in the gut a week ago, I feel great," Rosemary said lightly. 

Narrowing her eyes, Glynda sternly asked, "Do you somehow find this funny?"

The girl's eyes widened with sincere innocence. "No, Professor, of course not. I'm just happy to be alive," she said earnestly. 

Glynda eased up a fraction. "Right, of course," she agreed, encouraging Rosemary to relax. The girl had a bit of a wry sense of humor then. This was not so much surprising as was the fact that she appeared unaffected by her nearly fatal wound. It was hard to believe that one so young would be ready to jump right back into battle after a near-death experience. 

_Unless she's scared_ , Glynda realized, and with that thought, all of the girl's behavior made sense. Rosemary didn't remain unaffected by what had happened; it was quite the opposite. She was terrified, and she was struggling to keep that fear hidden.  _That's not good. She'll become a target for the Grimm_. Glynda would have to train that out of her as soon as possible if she was going to survive as a Huntress. For now, however, she needed to survive initiation. 

"There are a few things I need to go over with you before we head to the cliff," Glynda began. "Though I'm certain you'll enjoy the first part of the test, you do have an unusual advantage over most students. In any normal case there would be nothing wrong with this, but it is imperative you keep in mind that one of the primary focuses of the mission is to find and work with a teammate. It would be difficult to accomplish that if you flew all the way to the objective." She couldn't help but put a wry twist on her words as they felt strange to say, even for her. 

"Okay?" Rosemary responded uncertainly, her expression quizzical. 

Glynda continued, "It's preferable that you make it to the ground as soon as possible. I want you in the air for no more than thirty seconds. Any longer than that and I might have to think about docking your grade. Teamwork is very important to succeeding at this school. Any lone wolf bravado will not be tolerated."

Rosemary nodded, although the quizzical look did not leave her face. "I understand. Er...are we going to have to climb down the cliff?"

Glynda hesitated, not wanting to give too much away. "Not exactly."

Rosemary raised an eyebrow. "You're launching us off the cliff." It was not a question, and Glynda's chagrined silence was practically a confirmation. The girl smiled. "Ha! Seriously?"

"Don't sound so excited," Glynda muttered and then added with a hint of a warning, "There is such a thing as overconfidence, although I hope you would have learned your lesson by now." 

The smile faltered. "I don't think you need to worry about that," Rosemary said quietly, lowering her gaze. One hand traced unconsciously across her stomach. 

Glynda allowed herself to soften her approach. She wanted the girl to be wary of the danger, but she didn't want to kill her confidence entirely. It was an unnecessary act, however, and possibly not entirely fair. The girl hadn't exactly shown much confidence to begin with. "I don't think so either. As I said before, you seem to be able to handle yourself well. Now it's time to see how well you can handle working with others."

Rosemary smiled. She had a full smile when she wasn't just being polite, one that revealed her teeth. It was almost amazing how quickly she could change expressions, her emotions hidden from no one. Raised outside the kingdoms or not, she was still the definition of a first-year: innocent and having had yet to experience the darkness of the world. By the time she graduated— _if_  she graduated, she would be a very different person than the one she was now. Glynda had seen it hundreds of times in the years she had worked at Beacon, besides having experienced it herself. It came with the job of being a Huntress. The change was a wake-up call for most and something not everyone was ready for. Many students, if they were lucky, didn't experience it until after they graduated and went into the real world for the first time. Others like Rosemary, on the other hand, were likely to experience it early on.  

_If she's not ready for this life, then it will break her_ , Glynda thought grimly.  _Although there's no doubt that she's in it now_. Glynda needed to keep an eye on her as she struggled through it. She hated to think that darkness could overwhelm a child, but it did happen. It was often the young that were the most vulnerable.

"We will be leaving for the cliff shortly," she continued, "so I suggest you get ready. I would also prefer it if you kept this information to yourself. At least until after initiation begins."

In a formal gesture, Rosemary bowed her head with a polite, "Of course," her shoulders tensing. 

The action took Glynda faintly by surprise. She felt like she spent the majority of her time struggling to whip an ounce of discipline into the students that passed into her hands, and rarely did they ever arrive with more than that. What kind of people were the nomads to breed such a serious individual? Glynda, rather than feel pleased as she had expected, felt concerned instead. 

She took a step forward as if to walk past Rosemary, but paused at the girl's shoulder with a sigh. "Take a deep breath," she murmured, and then, stepping back into character, added, "Or I may be tempted to let the Beowolves have you for dinner."

Rosemary's eyes sparkled with good humor, and her posture relaxed. "Thank you," she gratefully murmured in return. Glynda got the sense she was referring to more than just their present conversation. 

"Just don't do anything reckless," she said stiffly and continued towards the exit without a backwards glance. 

Once she was outside, she allowed her own posture to relax a fraction. She took a path that would bring her around to the front of the school, the only sounds the clicking of her heels on the stone and the rustling of the leaves in the trees. There were few students wandering the grounds this early in the morning. All the first-years were equipping their armor, and most of the older students were likely sleeping in on their last day off. It would be the last peaceful morning for a while, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Despite the impression she tended to give, Glynda did actually enjoy her job. It was a rewarding thing to hand knowledge to the newest Huntsmen and Huntresses and watch them use it to make the world a better place. 

Ozpin had put together an interesting batch of initiates this year. It was likely their most diverse group yet, and she couldn't help but feel a touch of pride when she considered it. There were multiple students from each of the other three kingdoms, as well as a good number of Faunus from both Vale and Menagerie. Diversity like this certainly didn't exist in Atlas. 

And then there was Rosemary, who didn't fit into any category—kingdom, species, or otherwise. She was the girl that had literally turned up from nowhere. Glynda honestly didn't know what to do with her. During every conversation they had, it suddenly became easy to let her guard down, to ease up on her strictness, and, sometimes, to want to treat the girl like an adult. Generally, this is what she liked to achieve with her students, and she was on a first name basis with the majority of the older ones. However, unlike Ozpin, she didn't initially show this informality to first-years. Playing the mean teacher role, she ensured that the new students would stay in line before she relaxed in their company. To start off the year with a single student in her good graces would be an unfair act of favoritism. 

_Is it favoritism if the student is a special case?_

The situation with Rosemary was unprecedented, not to mention delicate, making it necessary to pay more attention to her. This brought Glynda close to a line she had to be careful not to cross. While it wasn't as if the other teachers didn't choose favorites—Peter openly admitted who he thought had the makings of a true Huntsman or Huntress, and even Ozpin was known to pay seemingly undue attention to individual students on occasion—there were rules that could be bent but not broken. All teachers were required to remain impartial in class and in the field. Even if Glynda could be a little selective with her praise at times, she still gave credit where credit was due. No one got special treatment. Not even goddesses. 

Which brought about another thing...

Nevertheless, for the girl's sake and for the sake of the other students, she needed to make sure she didn't give off the impression that Rosemary was special in any way. She had witnessed Ozpin and his various  _interests_  long enough that she was determined to make sure her other students weren't similarly ignored.

She just couldn't figure out if this was helped or hindered by the fact that she had no idea why the girl was here. She didn't even know what she was. 

Distractedly, she flicked two fingers, and the great wooden doors of the main entrance obediently groaned open just wide enough to let her out into the colonnade-ringed courtyard. The main avenue, with all its trees, lights, and banners, stretched out before her, expanding all of the way to the docks. It wasn't until a Bullhead, one of the noisy cargo-class airships, roared by overhead and momentarily ripped her from her thoughts that she noticed Ozpin. As she was brushing off her irritation at the interruption of the low flying ship, she saw him standing by the statue, giving off the strange image of permanence. It was as if he was an item that someone had put there, and he would always stay there, rooted to the ground, until that same odd creator picked him back up again. Sometimes it seemed that he was as solid as the statue beside him—that he had always been a part of Beacon and would continue to be until the pieces of the moon smashed into the ground. She had the suspicion that he would outlive her at least.

That is, of course, if the brotherhood and the Maidens succeeded. Otherwise they could all die together. 

"Die" being an subjective term in this case.  

Ozpin raised his coffee mug by way of greeting as she approached, which she returned with a nod of her head. "Are we ready to set out?" he asked. 

"The last of the initiates are equipping their armor now."

He shifted some of his weight off of his cane and readjusted his grip on the handle. "Then we can take our time," he said good-naturedly, indicating for them to begin walking in the direction of the docks. 

A gentle gust of cool morning air played with her hair and lightly ruffled her cape. The wind carried the last few drops of winter chill soon to be lost in the warmth of spring. When the cold returned, it would be to mark the year's end. However, first they needed to start at the beginning. 

"Who is there on standby?" she asked. 

"Port, Oobleck, and Grey will be stationed at the edge of the forest to provide assistance if necessary. Peach, some members of security, and a couple of the older students have volunteered to shadow. Their exact positions should show up on your Scroll." He paused and then added, "That is, if we've truly fixed that unfortunate glitch from last year."

Glynda internally winced as she considered the near disaster that had been last initiation. The program they used to monitor the students during the test had crashed halfway through, not only making it difficult to grade the students' skills and leadership abilities, but also leaving Glynda and Ozpin unable to know if they were even still alive. Luckily, the limited staff stationed in the forest was able to keep up with the status and location of every student and report back their observations. The first-years never knew the difference, but it had still been a serious failure on the part of Beacon in ensuring the safety of its kingdom's children. 

Beacon was one of Remnant's top combat academies, yet it was still at the mercy of technology. More accurately, it was  _increasingly_  becoming at the mercy of technology as they found themselves relying on it more and more often. It was through devices such as Scrolls and computers that they communicated with each other, measured Aura levels, performed surveillance, stored and organized data, and arranged sparring and tournament matches. And right in the heart of the school, linking all of these devices together and forming Vale's only line of communication with the other three kingdoms, was the CCT. If this or any of the other kingdoms' towers fell, then the entire world would go dark. 

It was almost amazing to count the numerous ways humanity was vulnerable, and, if Ozpin was right, it wouldn't be long before someone took advantage of those weaknesses. They just had to be ready when that happened.

"I want to run some things by you," Ozpin said, pulling her back to the present. "We can discuss them more at length back at my office, but I will need your consent for at least one of them."

Equally intrigued and wary, she tried to hide the hesitation in her response. "Alright. What did you have in mind?"

He told her. "That way, there would be a reasonable explanation for your association with her, and you would get some extra help in the process."

This suggestion took her by surprise more than it should have. "I...I never...I mean, it makes sense, but—" She broke off, unsure what she was protesting. 

He took it as a sign that she didn't want the responsibility. "Don't feel as if you have to accept," he said calmly. "If you think it would make your work more difficult, then by all means—"

"No, it would be fine," she said, perhaps a little faster than necessary. "You are right. I could use the extra help."

It was what she had been complaining about, right? Now he was asking her opinion, reducing her workload, and solving several other problems—essentially providing her with everything she had wanted. Only, now she wasn't so sure, and she had no idea as to why. Logically, the plan should have made everything simpler, but she was feeling like things had just become a lot more complicated. The line she was not supposed to cross had just been brought a lot closer anyway. 

Ozpin gave her an evaluating look, likely reading her thoughts as easily as if she had spoken them aloud, and the way he furrowed his brows indicated that he was just as confused by them as she was. Then his eyebrows raised, and a smile touched his lips. "Well," he said cheerfully, a hint of a laugh in his words, "consider this to be an experiment. I can say I'm quite interested to see the results."

She cast him a suspicious glance. "Are you going to elaborate or continue to be cryptic?"

He chuckled. "Continue to be cryptic. But only because it's not my place to say."

"Then will you tell her, or shall I?"

"I will, but I believe you should be the one to fill her in on the details."

"Very well. And the other thing?"

In a rare moment, he hesitated. They were at the docks now, and both of them had come to a halt. Hundreds of feet beneath them, the shining blue water of the sound was visible as it stretched from the cliffside to the sugar lump city in the distance. 

"I was thinking of leaving Beacon for a few days. Three at most. Not right away," he added quickly, for alarm must have shone on her face, "but not in the too distant future either."

"Alright," she responded calmly, trying not to jump to any conclusions. "Can I ask where you are planning to go?"

"Not at this moment." In other words,  _Not here_. "I assume you would be fine running the school while I'm gone?"

"It shouldn't be a problem." Although so much for reducing her workload.

He nodded, satisfied with her verbal confirmation. "Thank you. That's all I need to hear for now. We can discuss the details later. If I am not mistaken, we have an initiation to hold this morning."  
His switch to a businesslike manner left no room for argument or questions, and reluctantly she found herself back to playing the role of the dutiful employee. That still didn't stop the feeling of apprehension that welled up inside her. Ozpin never went into the field unless it was absolutely necessary. Did that mean this was about the Maidens? Had a move truly been made against Amber? Was he going on a journey alone, or was he going to meet someone? Qrow, perhaps?

With a great effort, she smothered her concern. Ozpin was right; now was not the right moment to dwell on this. Taking a breath, she pulled out her smaller Scroll and, after pushing a few buttons, spoke into it. Her own voice responded from across the avenue, magnified by the hundreds of speakers placed at various points over the entire campus. 

"Would all first-year students please report to Beacon Cliff for initiation? Again, all first-year students report to Beacon Cliff immediately."


	14. Flight

_I guess we're starting off the semester with a bang_ , Rosemary thought with some amusement, some awe, but mostly quiet determination. This was it. It was time, and she was ready.

Gusting up from below, the wind whipped at the loose strands of her hair, trying to rip them from her braid. She widened her stance against it, her boots clunking on the metal plate beneath her as she shifted her feet. In one great line, all of the first-year students stood side-by-side on top of a tall cliff. At their backs gently rolling hills grew into mountains, and in front of them the sheer cliff dropped off into an endless sea of deep green trees. Rosemary breathed deeply through her nose, taking in the scents of the wind. A feeling of calm determination had settled over her. The Emerald Forest—this was her element. She could do this. 

Talos shifted uneasily in his position to her left and glanced warily at the metal beneath his feet. Every student stood on a thin square of metal marked with Beacon's crossed-ax emblem. Rosemary had guessed correctly; they really were going to launch them off the cliff. 

This was going to be fun. 

"How's your landing strategy?" she asked, giving Talos a playful glance. 

He laughed nervously. "It's a work-in-progress."

She laughed quietly in response, not so much laughing at him as she was happy to be free. He attempted to smile back, but it slipped into a grimace. 

"If I could have your attention please." This had come from Professor Goodwitch, who stood before them with her back to the cliff. As all eyes turned in her direction, Professor Ozpin began speaking from his position beside her. 

"For years you have trained to become warriors," he announced, "and today your abilities will be evaluated in the Emerald Forest."

"Now," Goodwitch said, "I'm sure many of you have heard rumors about the assignment of teams. Well, allow us to put an end to your confusion. Each of you will be given teammates. Today."

Ozpin picked it back up. "These teammates will be with you for the rest of your time here at Beacon, so it is in your best interest to be paired with someone with whom you can work well." 

_Sounds fair enough_. Rosemary glanced at Coco and Velvet to her right and then at Talos to her left. She felt certain that she could find someone whom she could get along with. 

"That being said," Ozpin continued, "the first person with whom you make eye contact with after landing will be your partner for the next four years."

_Uh, what?_

A mix of excitement, disbelief, and dismay murmured up and down the line of students, and it was a few seconds before the headmaster was able to speak again. 

"After you've partnered up, make your way to the northern end of the forest. You will meet opposition along the way. Do not hesitate to destroy everything in your path...or you will die." The warning in his tone was clear. If they were going to become Huntsmen, then this mission was not to be taken lightly. 

Rosemary's hand instinctively gripped the handle of her sword. Next to her, Coco smirked and confidently placed a hand on one of her more interesting accessories: a black shoulder bag with gold studs that was held in place by a bandoleer strap. Talos's face became stony, and at a few swift taps to his wristbands, his armor began to hiss and click softly. 

"You will be monitored and graded for the duration of your initiation, but our instructors," Ozpin exchanged an unreadable look with Goodwitch, "will not intervene. You will find an abandoned temple at the end of the path containing several relics. Each pair must choose one then return to the top of the cliff. We will regard that item, as well as your standing, and grade you appropriately. Are there any questions?" Leaving no room for questions, he barely paused before exclaiming with pleasure, "Good! Now, take your positions."

Slowing her breathing and bending her knees slightly, Rosemary moved her right leg back and raised her hands. Those on either side of her adopted similar—or more unique—stances.  _Whup!_ The first plate released, sending the person that had been at the far left shooting through air over the forest.  _Whup!_ The one to the right of that launched the next person.  _Whup!_ And the next.  _Whup!_ Moving one by one down the line to right.  _Whup! Whup! Whup!_

As the sounds of springs releasing and thrilled shouts came swiftly closer, Talos looked at Rosemary with a nervous expression, his eyes searching her face for something. She grinned at him, her nerves having long since been replaced with excitement. For the first time in a long time, she was finally being allowed to stretch her wings. Perhaps in response to her excitement, Talos's face hardened with determination, and he gave her a firm nod. She nodded back, and just like that, without speaking, they had come to an agreement—if they could, they would try to become partners.  
 _Whup!_ Three plates until Rosemary.  _Whup!_ Two.  _Whup!_ One.  _Whup!_ Talos was gone. Her muscles tensed.  _Whup!_ Her plate flipped towards the cliff. She pushed off, but it made little difference, for all of the sudden she was flung hard and fast through the air. Wind whistled in her ears, and the distant ground became a moving green carpet of rapid approach. She tumbled over once, catching a glimpse of the cliff already a good distance behind her, before she cloaked her Aura and threw out her wings. 

_Fwoomp!_ Her speed slowed a fraction, and her flight became noticeably smoother. She wobbled briefly before quickly leveling off. The wind, which had initially been a source of confusion, suddenly became her friend as it ran over her wings, providing her with lift and keeping her from crashing into the treetops. 

She thrust down twice, rising up a few feet and then gliding back down. Her heartbeat slowed from the initial adrenaline rush, and she laughed aloud, enjoying the feel of the sun and the breeze as they played with her feathers and kissed her skin. The dark mountains provided a familiar comfort as they quietly watched her flight over the sea of green. This is what she had been missing. This is what is was to be free. 

A shrill screech sounded, and a flock of small Nevermores flapped erratically by her, the closest one coming within a foot of her right wing. The raven-like Grimm failed to notice her with her Semblance activated, but the sight of them was sobering enough to make her remember her mission. This was not some midnight glide; she was flying into battle. 

After scanning the forest beneath her for an entry point, she took a steadying breath. Then, pulling her wings close, she dove through the trees below.


	15. Bad Landing Strategy

Talos tumbled through the air in a psychedelic whirl of color—green, blue, white, yellow, brown, and gray all mixing together before his eyes. Desperate to stop spinning and very aware of the rapidly approaching trees, he ripped  _Nichor_  from its sheath and fired off several shots almost before it had finished transforming. The Dust explosions from the shotgun miraculously propelled him forward instead of down and enabled him to steady himself as he fell or, rather, flew. It had been a fifty-fifty shot, and it had been entirely by a stroke of good luck that  _Nichor_  hadn't sent him spinning into a tree. In order to prevent that from still happening, he let off a few more shots for good measure, the powerful recoil extending his flight time. 

He was skimming the treetops now, the occasional leaf whipping against his legs. Instead of firing  _Nichor_  again, he let himself fall into the forest, and extending his arms in front of him, he caught a high branch in his hands.  _Crack!_ The branch snapped at his force, failing to stop his momentum as he flew straight towards the thick trunk of a tree. Alarmed, he dropped the broken branch and instinctively caught the trunk between his bronze wristbands, the metal skidding over the wood and sending him into an uncontrolled orbit around the trunk. The alarm turned to panic, and he gripped the tree with his knees, which allowed him to wrap his arms around it in a desperate bear hug. 

Having finally stopped spinning, he let out a sigh of relief and looked down. The forest floor was still a long way down, but there appeared to be a sturdy branch right beneath him. Sliding down the trunk, he dropped onto the branch, causing several of the hissing leaves to shake loose as the limb bounced, but it otherwise held his weight. He studied the other trees nearby and quickly did a few mental measurements and calculations as a plan formed in his head. It could work. That is, if he was capable of pulling it off. 

Taking a deep breath, he sprinted to the end of the branch and leaped in the direction of the closest tree. This time, instead of colliding with it, he kicked off the trunk with his left leg, pushing himself towards another tree to his right and losing some height in the process. He kicked off the next tree with his right leg and the one after that with his left. Right, left, right—it was in this way, wall jumping off the trees, that he brought himself closer to the ground.  

For a few seconds, he felt a sense of satisfied excitement. It was actually working! Then he misjudged, miscalculated, and just plain missed. His foot slipped as he pushed off one tree, and rather than jump to the next one as he had planned, he quickly found himself falling at an angle towards the forest floor. There wasn't even time to shout before his feet hit the ground, and he was forced to allow his momentum to carry him into a roll. Having literally hit the ground running, he sprang back up and stumbled forward with a surprised laugh. He had actually stuck the landing. 

"Yes! Nail—" His words of triumph morphed into an exclamation of alarm as a root grabbed his foot, sending him flying headfirst into a bush and killing the last of his pride. At least he had finally stopped.

Unhurt physically, he climbed unsteadily to his feet, spitting out bitter leaves and picking clingy twigs out of his hair. "Really need to work on my landing strategy," he muttered. Hopefully it wouldn't hurt his grade. 

He took in his surroundings. The ground was relatively flat and firm, and the numerous thick tree trunks and leafy bushes were spaced out enough to allow for easy travel. The air smelled of dampness and decaying plant matter, and sunlight filtered through the leaves above his head, creating alternating patches of light and shadow. The forest wasn't overly dark, but there were certainly places where something large could remain hidden. 

Feeling uneasy, he rested one hand on  _Nichor's_  hilt. He needed to get moving. Only, which direction was he supposed to go? There was no path visible, and the trees made it nearly impossible to get his bearings. He had been heading north when he had crashed, right? He looked around for some sign of which way that was, but every direction looked the same. 

He decided to just pick a direction and start walking. His goal was to find a partner first and then head to the temple. He could figure out which way was north after he had found the person he was supposed to work with. Rosemary had been right behind him; maybe she was nearby. 

It was both an encouraging and strange thought. He had only met her the day before, but for some reason he couldn't entirely explain, he really wanted her for a partner. They knew almost nothing about each other, but they had just...clicked. She was smart and kind, and there was something pure about her that made her easy to trust. He hoped that he would get the chance to learn more about her, and he thought that she felt the same. 

How was one supposed to find another person in this giant sea of trees? The other students had probably been scattered far and wide by the launch, and even if they hadn't the brush was just thick enough that he wouldn't have been able to notice a person standing twenty feet from him. Did he try calling out?

"Hello?" he called tentatively. "Is anyone there?" No answer. "Rosemary? You nearby?" Nothing but silence. Absolutely nothing...

It wasn't until after he had spoken that he realized just how quiet the forest was around him. There was no birdsong or squirrel chatter. There was no sound at all.  

The back of his neck tingled. He stopped walking and, with very slow, careful movements, drew his sword from its sheath. 

_Crack!_ A single twig snapped, very close. 

Tightening his grip on  _Nichor_ , he put one foot in front of the other and widened his stance. "Hello?" he called again. Still no answer. The bush in front of him rustled and then once again fell silent. "Show yourself!" he demanded, his fear misrepresenting itself as assertiveness. 

The bush rustled again louder and shook its leaves violently, and a low rumbling sound came from within. A pair of eyes appeared. They were not the green eyes Talos had been looking for. No, these eyes glowed red. 

Talos swallowed and took a step back. "Well, you're not Rosemary..."

Another rumble came from behind him, so loud that it vibrated in his chest and caused him to freeze. He didn't have to turn around to know what it was. 

With an earth-shattering roar, the Ursa in the bush charged. He threw himself to the side, barely dodging the onslaught of dagger-length claws. When he had come up from the roll, he found himself facing not one, not two, but three angry Ursai. The bear-like Grimm snarled at him, showing off their sharp teeth.

"Oh, all three of you want to play, huh?" he asked faintly. There came three growls in response. 

He did a quick evaluation. It would take only a few swipes from their claws to deplete his Aura and one bite to destroy it entirely. Their masks and the white bone-like protrusions spiking up from their fur added some protection to their faces and backs, but their necks and underbellies were completely vulnerable. He just had to get close enough to get a good hit in—without actually getting hit in the process. 

One of the black beasts charged him. He side-stepped to avoid snapping teeth and gave a swipe with  _Nichor_  as the monster blew by him. The short sword glanced off a bone protrusion, doing no damage. Another Ursa took the opportunity to attempt to take his head off with its claws, rising up on its hind legs in order to make the blow. He ducked and lunged for its belly, but he only managed to make a shallow cut before the third one attacked from the right. He dove to the ground and then rolled over with a gasp as the second one slammed its front paws down on the place where he had been laying a moment before. 

Scrambling to his feet, he didn't have enough time to move out of the way as the first one charged again. Thinking quickly, he grabbed one of the beast's hard spikes and leaped, swinging up onto its back. The Ursa roared and reared up in an attempt to shake him off, but he managed to maintain a tight grip with one hand. After swiftly sheathing his sword, he flicked his other wrist. His armor clicked and hummed, and a single grenade rolled down the track on his arm into his free hand, which he promptly lodged between two of the Ursa's spikes. He leaped away from the monsters, his feet skidding on the ground as he landed upright. 

_Boom!_ The explosion slammed the Ursa into the ground. The other two growled angrily.  _Boom! Boom!_ He swiftly launched two more grenades off the tracks at the other Ursai, stopping them from coming closer. With a furious roar, the first Ursa climbed back to its feet and rose to its full height, swinging its arms in anger.  _Boom! Boom! Boom!_ He launched three grenades right into its stomach. The beast took a single step backwards and then toppled over, its back hitting the ground with a thud. It didn't get up again. 

_One down_ , he thought.  _Who's ne—_

A large paw suddenly materialized in the grenade smoke and smacked into his chest, sending him flying back twenty feet until he was stopped abruptly by his back hitting a tree. Dazed, he slid down into a sitting position. Both he and his armor were not dented thanks to strong Aura and good craftsmanship respectively, but the blow had left him windless and struggling for breath. He faintly chastised himself for letting his guard down. He could not take a hit like that again. 

The paw was shortly followed by the rest of the attached Grimm. The beast loomed over him, so close that it trapped him against the tree. With a low rumble, it lifted a paw to prepare for the killing blow. 

Still gasping, he ripped  _Nichor_  back from its sheath and squeezed its hilt. The sword whirred and vibrated in his hand as it smoothly changed form, and in less than two seconds he had a shotgun aimed at the creature's chest. He swiftly fired off two shots and then a third for good measure. The Ursa slumped onto its stomach with a moan and lay still. 

Not allowing himself any more time to catch his breath, he jumped to his feet and raised Nichor as it changed back to sword form. With an unintelligible cry of determination, he charged the final Ursa before it could take a single step. The back of his neck tingled, and he ducked just in time to avoid a swipe from the monster's claws. When he rose, he did so with his sword and slashed repeatedly at the Ursa's soft underbelly. With a final roar of pain, the Ursa collapsed in a heap. 

Black smoke whispered into the air as the three Grimm corpses disintegrated, and in a couple of seconds nothing would remain. The battle had been won. 

Talos doubled over, trying to regain some of his oxygen. He was out of shape. Normally he had his dad to back him up; never had he gone into a fight alone before. He felt a little proud of himself. He wasn't off to a bad start. 

"Whoo," he laughed, speaking to the trees. "Is that all you got? C'mon, don't take it easy on me."

A chill abruptly make its way down his spine, killing his giddiness and making him freeze.  _Thud, thud, thud_. The ground shook as something heavy struck it rhythmically.  _Thud, thud, thud_. The shaking stopped to be replaced with a sound that reminded Talos of a whale coming up for air. He closed his eyes in dread. There was a huff, and warm air hit the back of his head. Opening his eyes again, he slowly turned around to stare directly into the face of a true monster.


	16. Fear

It was quiet as Rosemary made her way north through the forest. Well, as quiet as a forest got. Birds whistled and chirped to each other, and the leaves rustled in the trees. Her hiking boots crunched on the natural debris on the ground. She felt at ease. The forests of Sanus were her home.    

It had been a pretty uneventful trip so far. She had seen nothing and no one for the twenty minutes she had been walking. While that wasn't that long of a time, she began to wonder at the odds of finding another person. She had been in the middle of the lineup, so she had thought it would've been easy. What if she made it to the temple without finding someone? She supposed she would be forced to wait until an unpaired person showed up. If they showed up.    

Was it possible that she was lost? No, she was heading north as instructed. How long was this mission supposed to be anyway? Surely not too long. It wasn't as if they were going to make it like a real mission...right?   

She quickly pushed away her doubts. There was no use getting worked up just yet. It hadn't even been half an hour. If she didn't find something in the next forty minutes, then she could start to worry.    

A strange feeling brought her focus to her surroundings. With her night vision, she hadn't initially noticed it, but the forest had gotten darker due to the foliage having gotten thicker. The underbrush was wilder, and the bushes were bigger. Partially broken and dead branches hung from trees and lay scattered across the ground. There were no birds in this part of the forest.    

The back of her neck tingled, but she had already pulled  _Ebur_  halfway from its sheath, alert for the danger was going to inevitably appear. A pair of red eyes flickered to life in the bushes in front of her and began to steadily float in her direction. After a few seconds, the eyes attached themselves to the head of a black wolf-like creature that was cautiously crawling along the ground—a Beowolf, a Grimm werewolf.    

The Grimm lifted its snout to sniff the air, growling as it caught her scent. Letting out a breath, she slid  _Ebur_  back into its sheath. The Beowolf broke off mid-growl and cocked its head, its ears perking up. She didn't move, didn't think, and almost didn't breathe. She didn't give off any emotion, any kind of threat. She wasn't Human. She wasn't one of them.    

The Beowolf carefully crawled towards her. It was a large one, but it had yet to gain the size, caution, and intelligence of an Alpha. That was good. She couldn't influence an Alpha.    

More sets of eyes waited in the bushes behind it, marking a half dozen Wolves in total. None of the others dared come forward. That was also good. This pack was smart. It listened and observed, thinking before acting. It would be around for a while if it stayed that way.     

_Ah! You're doing it again. Grimm kill people. Remember that_.    

The curious Beowolf stopped before her, sinking onto its haunches so it was at her eye level. It sniffed at her face, cocking its head again. She looked into its eyes, and she was close enough to it that she could see the hints of yellow amidst the burning red. Its ears flattened, and its lips pulled back to reveal wicked fangs. A low warning growl rumbled in its throat.    

"Tell your pack to leave," she said calmly in her native language, still standing as motionless as the trees around her. "We can both walk away from this." To her chagrin, she realized that she had spoken similar words to the gang members.    

And she received a similar response. The growl grew louder, and the Beowolf took a step back, allowing itself enough room to lower its body into a threatening crouch.    

"Leave," she attempted to say more forcefully, but her confidence was already slipping. There was a pain in her stomach, the bite of cold metal followed by a burning fire, and blood was slipping through her fingers.    

No, there was no blood. There was no pain. She was fine.    

A series of barks and snarls brought part of her attention to the other Wolves. The rest of the pack was creeping forward. This wasn't working. She had no control.     

_Okay, back away slowly. That's it. No sudden movements. You got this. Just get a little distance..._    

As carefully as possible, she inched her way backwards, not allowing herself to turn away from the Beowolf in front of her. Its growl remained continuous, but it otherwise didn't move. She needed it to stay that way for the next few seconds. If it lunged at her while she was this close, then there would be no way for her to draw her sword in time. If she could just make it a few more feet...    

_Crack!_ A twig snapped beneath her boot. Time stopped. No, wait, that was just her heart.    

With a flick of her left wrist,  _Ebenos_  sprang into full form in time to catch the Beowolf's chest and keep the snapping teeth from coming closer than a few inches from her nose. She braced herself as she was slammed into by the mass of fur and teeth and claws, and she barely managed to hold her ground, her feet sliding only a little on the soft earth. Having only seconds of purchased time at her disposal, she drew  _Ebur_  and thrust it into the Beowolf's stomach. The Grimm disintegrated instantly.    

A blood-chilling howl split the air, followed by several more. With snarls that contained the hatred only a Grimm could possess, the rest of the pack attacked. She swung her sword, angling the blade upward, to cleanly slice off the head of the first Wolf that reached her. Black smoke poured from its severed neck.    

The next one leaped, and she was forced to crouch down and raise her shield above her head. Right as the Beowolf hit her shield, she thrust it upwards, causing the Wolf to slip off the wood and go crashing into the ground behind her.    

She had only a second to rise before another one launched itself at her. She raised her blade in response, and the beast gurgled as it skewered its own throat. The sword involuntarily ripped itself back out as her body was suddenly shoved to the side, and she had to stumble to the right in order remain standing. Her attacker, the Beowolf that had flown over her head, once again threw itself against her shield in another attempt to get through her defense.    

Her attention diverted to her left, she didn't see the movement to her right until it was too late. She let out a gasp as her Aura sizzled, the personal shield protecting her skin from the claws raking down her right arm, and then  _Ebur_  was gone, knocked out of her hand by the second Beowolf's swipe. She had let herself get surrounded—an amateur mistake, one that almost always came with a price.    

Momentarily weaponless, she activated her cloaking and launched herself into the air, beating her silent wings to keep herself aloft. At the touch of her right hand,  _Ebenos_  hummed and shifted before offering up her backup,  _Eben_. With two quick pulls of the trigger, whistling crossbow bolts swiftly pierced the Beowolves' skulls, killing the double team before they knew what hit them.    

For several heartbeats, everything was silent. There was no sound, no movement, and no sign of...anything. There had been six Beowolves total. Five were dead. Where was the sixth? She scanned the ground, but nothing revealed itself. Had it fled?   

A gleaming white object amidst the grass and dead leaves caught her eye. Keeping herself cloaked, she landed beside it, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips when she confirmed that it was indeed  _Ebur_. She pulled her wings back underneath her armor and reattached  _Eben_  to  _Ebenos_. There was no telling what she would've done had she lost that sword.    

Suddenly her back slammed into the ground, and a great weight pinned down her arm and crushed her chest. In her surprise, her concentration slipped and she flickered back into view. The final Beowolf hadn't fled; it had waited.   

Clever.    

A hungry, gaping maw hung over her face and hit her with waves of air that smelled of rotten meat. That combined with the large paw placed squarely on her chest make it very difficult for her to breathe. The other paw happened to be placed on the arm nearest to her sword—her left arm, the one that bore a collapsed  _Ebenos_. She tried to reach for her sword or even to move, but she couldn't under the several hundred pounds of fur-covered muscle. She was trapped with her weapon just inches from her fingertips, but she was unable to grab it.    

This was not good.    

The Beowolf drew its head back far enough that she could clearly see every little nick and scrape on its muzzle, and the low rumble that originated in its chest spread throughout her entire body. It was hard not to feel panic now. She desperately stretched her fingers as far as they would go. For one hopeful moment, they brushed against  _Ebur's_  hilt. And then they knocked it farther out of her reach.    

Despair came crashing down on her—exactly what the Grimm had been waiting for.    

"Damn," she quietly swore.    

And that's when the Beowolf went for her throat.


	17. Partners

Dustin was bored. Everywhere he looked it was just trees, trees, trees, and—surprise, more trees. Each one was no different from the rest. He wanted some excitement or at least some form of entertainment. He had thought he had heard explosions in the distance, but had found nothing when he wandered in that direction to investigate. He had expected a challenge, but so far he had been given squat. Not a single Grimm had shown itself, not even a tiny Nevermore. Some initiation this was. Talk about a disappointment. 

_It's no wonder this school is known for its diversity. The riffraff have no problem getting in if this is all there is to stop them._

Then again, the launch from the cliff had been fun. 

Then again, he could have chosen Haven. 

He decided to tempt fate. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he shouted, "Hey! Anybody out there?!" A brief pause. No response. "Come on! I'm bored!" A longer pause. Still no response. "Saul! Where you at, bro?!" Again, no response save for his own echo. 

His scuffed the dirt with his boot in annoyance. Well, that just sucked. 

Where in the world was his brother? They had been right next to each other during the launch, so they should have found each other by now. Unless Saul had already found a partner and gone on ahead. But no, they were twins: they would be partners with each other and no one else. And even if Saul was stuck with another person, he would still wait for him. No man left behind. 

Unease began to settle over Dustin. Did that mean Saul was in trouble? The younger twin could handle himself in a fight, that was for sure, but what if he was lost? Dustin was already finding it difficult to tell north from south, so things were surely just as hard, if not harder, for Saul. What if they never found each other?

Dustin's lip curled in self-disgust. It was stupid of him to worry. His brother didn't need him, and he surely didn't need his brother. He was just fine on his own, and besides, they would meet up eventually. It was bound to happen, just like it always did. They were blood. 

He glanced around, seeking some sense of direction. There was a clearing to his right. Maybe he could get an idea of where he was from there. 

Before he could take another step, a sound like thunder crashed through the air, and the ground shook beneath his feet. An earthquake? No, it was another explosion, and this time it was very close by.   
Holding his assault rifle at the ready, he waited, and he listened. At first, nothing seemed different from before. And then he heard it—the  _thoom, thoom, thoom_  of a heavy object repeatedly striking the earth. The trees to his left began to shake and rattle violently as if a strong wind was trying to force them apart.  _Thoom, thoom, thoom_ —the earth also began to shake as it responded to each rapidly approaching thud. The leaves of the trees right next to him starting hissing and waving angrily, and then the bushes in front of him joined in as well. He aimed  _Bifrost_ , preparing to fire...

A humanoid bronze blur shot out of the bushes, and he was forced to point his gun at the ground lest he accidentally shot the annoying creature for startling him. "Run, run, run!" it shouted, its eyes wild as it barreled past him towards the clearing. 

He huffed in irritation and once again aimed his rifle at the shaking trees. He wasn't going to run from any old Grimm. 

With that thought in mind, he had no qualms about running away when the Ursa Major came bursting through the trees nearly on top of him. 

"Oh, crap!" he swore as he was almost crushed by a black furry mountain of spikes, teeth, and claws. The advice of the bronze thing now sounding like a good idea, he quickly turned tail and fled to the clearing. To gain more room to maneuver, of course. 

"Look out!" he shouted as he tore into the clearing with the monster hot on his heels. He threw himself to the side so that the freight train of a creature would pass by him. That it did, and it crashed straight into the other student and sent the kid flying all the way across the clearing into the trunk of a tree. Well, that was one way to stop a runaway Ursa. 

"Ow!" came the annoyed and pained response. 

"I said to look out," Dustin muttered under his breath before turning to size up his opponent. 

Which just happened to be the largest Ursa he had ever seen. The bear-like Grimm was more than double the size of a regular Ursa, and instead of having only a row of short bone-like protrusions along its spine, the monster's entire back was covered with tall, sharp spikes. Its legs were also heavily covered with white bone plates, meaning that it was going to require one heck of a feat to get through that thing's armor. 

He squeezed off a few rounds at it. The beast gave a thunderous roar in response, angry at him but indeed unhurt. His hypothesis confirmed, he twisted  _Bifrost's_  hilt, and within seconds he held a gleaming silver war hammer in his hand. This was going to require some heavy hitting. 

He sprinted towards the creature and swung his hammer at its enormous head only to be promptly knocked back with a single powerful paw swipe.  _Bifrost_  shook violently in his hands from the blow, sending painful vibrations up his arms, but he managed to keep his grip on his weapon. 

"Woah!" he exclaimed in surprise. That thing had more strength than he had thought. 

But by attacking him, the Ursa Major had risen up on its hind legs, leaving its vulnerable underbelly exposed. It had practically offered him a giant black target.

_Let's see if I can get a bullseye_. 

Hammer raised, he charged again with the endgame already planned out in his mind. Three well-placed hits would likely finish the monster within seconds. It didn't work out that way. 

The air abruptly left his lungs as he collided with what felt like a hot metal wall, and his attack was halted as his limbs became tangled with the object and they both went tumbling to the ground. He roughly attempted to shove the metal thing away from him, which had turned out to be the other student, and while he was unhurt, he was highly annoyed. "Watch it!" he snapped once they managed to separate enough for him to sit up. 

"Watch it? You watch it!" the other boy exclaimed indignantly. "It was my move. You should've waited your turn."

"My turn?" Dustin echoed irately. "It was my kill!"

"It was mine first!"

The earth rumbled as the Ursa charged them, and both boys scrambled to get out of its way, just barely rolling to the side in time. Dustin registered a black and white blur pass within a foot of his heels and heard its feet slide over grass as it skidded to a stop. He felt his annoyance grow as he reexamined his target. The Ursa was back on all four feet, and it was unlikely to offer an easy target again any time soon. "You mean you were its!" he shouted at the student, who had rolled in the opposite direction of him. "You clearly can't handle it."

"Neither can you!" the boy countered. "Or did you not run from it as well?"

"Why you—" Dustin began but broke off as he noticed something about the Ursa. It was turning its head from side to side as it looked back and forth between them, clearly confused about which person to attack. That gave him an idea. Turning back to the boy, he continued his verbal assault. "How'd you get into this school anyway? You don't have the guts. The guts or the skill."

Judging by the furious look on the boy's face, it worked like a charm. "Excuse me? I'm still here, aren't I? Only an idiot would attempt to fight full-grown Ursa in the limited maneuverability of a forest, which I had assumed you weren't. And I bet I have more combat experience than you, Richie. Not all of us can afford training dummies, you know."

"Course you can," Dustin said coolly. "Mine just aren't made of cardboard and tin cans."

"Unbelievable! How can one person be so—" It was enough, and the Ursa finally chose its target. With a roar, the Grimm charged towards the boy, causing him to break off with a panicked gasp, but Dustin was ready. Sprinting forward, he slammed his hammer into the monster, sending it toppling over onto its side, and he leaped back as it blindly attempted to scratch him from its position on the ground. 

He watched in satisfaction as it slowly climbed to its feet, but his satisfaction was short-lived. While the monster roared in anger, it did not climb back on its hind legs. Instead, it charged at him. He tensed, preparing to leap out of the way, when there was a thunderous explosion and the now smoking Ursa was back on its side on the ground. He glanced to his right to see the bronze boy lowering what had been an outstretched arm, the metal armor clicking and humming. "You planned that," he stated flatly. 

"Took you long enough," Dustin said, as if that had been his intention from the beginning. The boy huffed but wisely did not argue.

The Ursa lumbered back to its feet, mad more now than ever before. It snarled, and this time it did climb onto two legs, waving its forelegs in the air angrily. "If I can bring it to its knees, can you finish it?" the boy asked. 

Dustin snorted, "Please." He twisted  _Bifrost's_  hilt again and gripped his automatic rifle once more. He fired several rounds straight into the beast's stomach, causing it to roar with pain and sway unsteadily on its feet. Still looking annoyed, the boy ran forwards and then dove into a roll. Coming up into a crouch before the Ursa, he promptly fired a shotgun shot into its knee and hopped away before the creature could crush him flat as it collapsed forward onto its stomach. Dustin hurried forward as well, twisting  _Bifrost's_  hilt a third time, and swinging with all his strength, he drove the hammer into the Ursa's head with a loud crack, to be followed by a satisfying hiss. The Grimm had begun to disintegrate. It was dead. 

"That wasn't too hard," he said smugly. He glanced at the boy and decided to offer him a rare bit of praise. "Not bad." Stone-faced, the boy said nothing. Dustin pretended like he didn't notice and held out his hand. "I'm Dustin. Dustin Atwell." He nearly winced, instantly regretting giving out his last name. That was a card he usually didn't like to play. 

But if the boy recognized it, he didn't show it as he shook Dustin's hand. "Talos Brindisi." Dustin, on the other hand, did recognize him—at least from the short time they had spent at the school. He was the boy from the locker room that had gotten upset when Dustin had called that cute friend of his a teacher's pet. It had been obvious that he had instantly decided that he didn't like Dustin or Saul, and Dustin had decided that same thing about him. 

Dark brown eyes met blue-green and the air temperature abruptly dropped a few degrees at a stark realization: according to the rules, they were now partners. "Well," Dustin said. "I guess we're stuck together."

"Yeah," Talos said with little enthusiasm. 

"You got a problem with that?" Dustin asked with some irritation, despite that fact that he felt exactly the same. 

Talos, to his credit, looked uncomfortable. "You just aren't the person I was hoping to find," he mumbled. 

Dustin scraped his boot along the ground, muttering, "Yeah, well, you aren't either." And that just sucked. 

_Damn it, Saul. Where are you?_


	18. Progress

"The next team has been formed: Velvet Scarlatina and Yatsuhashi Daichi," Glynda declared, looking at one of the many camera feeds on her large Scroll. It was an interesting match but a good one. She had originally thought the small rabbit Faunus far too timid to be a Huntress, but the girl had shown far more mettle in the field than she could've expected. Her agility combined with the strength of the gentle giant that was Daichi made for a well-balanced team. Few formed as smoothly as this one did during initiation. 

An example of how this was the case was clear on the next feed she enlarged on her screen: two boys in combat with an Ursa Major. They had no communication, they were both trying to show off, and they brought their emotions with them into the field. That was hardly evidence of the making of professional Huntsmen.

"Dustin Atwell and Talos Brindisi," she announced as the boys defeated the Ursa and bitterly shook hands.  _No drama there_ , she thought dryly. Although, the Atwells were almost famous for their drama.   
That being said, both were highly clever. The problem was that Dustin was overconfident and had a bit too high of an opinion of himself. On the other hand, whereas he had confidence and skill, Talos lacked confidence and was sloppy. At the same time, Talos had demonstrated that he knew how to work as a team, an important skill that Dustin had so far shown no interest in. Both were rough around the edges, and they would not fit together easily. 

"They'll be good for each other," Ozpin said from his position beside her, looking at his own Scroll. "If they can learn to adapt and to grow as a team, then they may have the ability to go farther than anyone else."

"I'll take your word for it," Glynda said, albeit good-naturedly. She and Ozpin were still standing at the starting position at the top of the cliff, and while the first few students had begun to choose their relics, none had returned. Judging by the unusually high Grimm activity, they would still be a little while yet. 

She pulled up another camera feed, courtesy of the staff and older students that were serving as tails. This one was of Rosemary, who had come face to face with a Beowolf pack. Glynda watched closely, waiting to see how she handled being outnumbered, when the girl suddenly...sheathed her sword? "What? What is she—" Glynda broke off as her surprise increased even more. The pack wasn't attacking. "Have you seen anything like this?" she asked Ozpin, but her superior didn't answer her. He was too focused on his own screen. 

Then something happened. No, not something. Rosemary panicked. The first Beowolf lunged, and the fight began. Glynda followed it attentively, noting every little detail. The girl wasn't half-bad—perhaps a level above many of the first-years—but she still had a long way to go. Glynda made a "tsk" sound when Rosemary stopped paying attention to her left side, resulting in the loss of her sword.  _Sloppy_. 

After the growls of the Wolves and the thud of weapons hitting flesh, there was an almost deafening silence that followed. In fact, there was nothing. Five Grimm were dead, and the girl was nowhere to be seen. That was until the sixth Beowolf showed itself. The monster threw itself from the bushes, and there was a grunt as it slammed into the girl, bringing her back into view. It pinned her to the ground, her sword just out of reach. 

Glynda's fingers hovered just above her screen, ready to hit the button to contact Peach to get the girl out of there, when Ozpin held up a hand. "Wait."

"I—" Glynda began, but stopped as she saw something she hadn't originally noticed. "Oh." She readjusted her glasses and double checked the list. "That's all of them. The final pair has been formed."


End file.
